Face the Music and Dance
by WildWelshWitch
Summary: Kevin Mask meets a girl...who has no clue who he is. hoping I can entertain and squeeze a lot of music references into this. Eventual Kevin MaskxOC. Please R&R.
1. Perfect Strangers

Nothing particular had brought Theresa to the park this cold winter afternoon. Gramps was working and she didn't feel like hanging out with her friends.

The park was empty (too late for the children, too early for the druggies); she had the place to herself.

On a whim she dropped her schoolbag and sat down on a swing, gently pushing herself back and forth with the tops of the soles of her school shoes, before swinging properly, pushing off with her feet and gaining altitude with every to swing.

It was almost like freedom, almost like flying. Sometimes Theresa wished that she could fly, not for any particular reason other than to know how it felt.

Out of nowhere a gust of cold wind blew and knocked her bag over. The papers it contained spilled onto the ground. Theresa instantly jumped from her swing and tried to gather them up as quickly as she could.

However, two of her music sheets got caught on the breeze and fluttered off.

"Flippin' heck!" she cursed aloud and, having shouldered her bag, bolted after the rogue sheets of half composed music.

Every time she came within an inch of grabbing one, the breeze picked up.

BAM!

"OUCH!!" she landed hard on her backside on the cold ground, "Owww," she muttered gently and got up on her knees, "I really should've paid more attention to where I was going..."

"Yes, you should have," a young, but gruff upper class voice told her sulkily before a gloved hand was extended down towards her.

"I'm sorry," Theresa said, taking the offered limb, standing up and coming face to face with...someone wearing an iron mask...must be a Dumas convention going on somewhere in the city. "I was after some papers, you haven't seen them have you? They've music notes all over them...?"

"No."

He let go of her hand once she was on her feet again.

"Oh..." Theresa's face fell. They were gone...all of her hard work. It was getting too dark to look now. Maybe she could get up early and come look again before school? "Thanks anyway..." she turned and walked away with a sad sigh and hoped that it wouldn't rain before tomorrow.

She didn't look back.

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Kevin watched her go. That had been...strange. She hadn't instantly tried to get his autograph or fawned over him. In fact, she'd treated him as if he were...normal?

Maybe it was a ploy? Maybe she wanted him to go after her, he'd had fangirls do that before.

But then again, if it was a ploy why hadn't any recognition sparked in her eyes? And she'd seemed genuinely upset that she couldn't find the supposed sheets of music, if the slouch of her shoulders was anything to go by.

He took the papers from behind his back and looked at them in the fading light.

'Melody's Lament' was typed along the top, whilst below: "by Theresa S. Chappen - No.12 Hall Street, London' was written in a neat script.

He carefully folded up the papers and tucked them into his jacket pocket. It was the gentlemanly thing to do to return them.

Sometimes, fairly often, he cursed the manners that'd been drilled into him almost from infancy.

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"Gramps, I'm home...you here?" Theresa called, opening the door of the house. "Hello? Hey, anyone here? Oof!" a big bundle of black and white fur tackled her and started slobbering on her face, tail wagging ecstatically.

"Heheh, 'ello Banksy," she said, sitting up and patting the dog between the ears, "least you're here to greet me, huh? You know, that's the second time in the space of an hour I've landed on my backside?"

The dog, a mix of Labrador and Border Collie, sat back on his haunches, panting happily and grinning at her unrepentantly.

Standing, she patted him on the head again then spotted the note on the hall table.

'_Working late. Money for fish and chips on the kitchen counter. Bringing home a film tonight. See you soon. Love, Gramps._

_PS. Piano teacher called – off sick so no lesson this week. Same time next week though.'_

"Love you too, Old Man," she laughed aloud to no one in particular before heading upstairs to her bedroom. She could get some food AFTER she'd had a shower and changed out of her uniform. This in mind, she headed upstairs, Banksy following close on her heels.

Theresa's room was covered in music posters, but not the usual sort of music posters associated with girls in their late teens. It lacked the pretty boy boyband posters or unrealistic girl singers. These music posters included The Beatles, Jefferson Airplane and the like, mixed in with Beethoven, Mozart and Bach. The desk is covered with music papers and some half written lyrics; in the corner of the room was an electric keyboard and a recorder

Even the bed covers, which were blue, were covered in musical notes (and currently a black and white dog, too)

She hung her bag on the back of her chair, along with her school tie and kicked off her shoes before heading to the bathroom, grabbing a couple of towels on the way, after telling Banksy to stay where he was.

She was going to have to buy some more hair dye, she thought, looking in the bathroom mirror. The pink colour was almost washed out and her natural blonde was starting to show, with the dye remnants it looked almost pearlesent.

With a shrug she undressed, turned on the wall radio and then, switching the station form Radio 2 to Planet Rock, stepped into the shower.

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Well, this seemed to be the place, Kevin thought, looking up at the brown stone building.

For some reason he was expecting something...grander. Still it didn't matter, he was here to get this plot over with, not criticise the house.

With a sigh of inevitability, he knocked the door.

No answer.

Under his mask, he raised an eyebrow. Surely she'd be waiting, ready to answer the door the second he knocked?

He knocked again

No answer.

He rang the bell

Silence...then... Ah, footsteps and a voice called "Coming!"

A second later the door was opened by the girl from earlier. She looked slightly pink as if she'd rushed downstairs. Of course she'd rushed downstairs, she'd been waiting for him.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, I was looking for my shoes and Banksy's leash...Can I help you?" she asked, looking up at him then something in her mind clicked.

He knew it. All he had to do was wait for her to start flirting with him and then he could cut her down and leave.

"Didn't I run into you earlier? At the park?" she raised an eyebrow at him as a new thought occurred to her. "Hold it...how do you know where I live?...Fuck! Did you follow me?! You freakin' pervert! Banksy!"

As if on cue a dog started to bark loudly, apparently alerted by its mistress' voice.

Wait...what?! That wasn't how things normally went!

"What? No!" he thrust the sheets of music towards her, "your address was written on these!"

She blinked and took a good look at the papers then her face broke into an ecstatic smile as she took them from him.

"You found them! You found my music! ThankyouThankYouTHANKYOU! OhmygodIcouldkissyou!" after a few seconds, she paused, "...uh...by the way...what's your name?"

"What?"

"Who are you? So I know who to thank."

Ah, she was one of THOSE fangirls, the 'I'll play coy and pretend I don't know you in an attempt to seem sweet' types.

"Kevin," he said, "Kevin Mask" and waited for the excited look to enter her eyes at the mention of his name...instead she just gave him a polite but blank smile.

"OK. Well, thanks for bringing back my music sheets, Kevin," she turned and set them down on the hall table, "Excuse me, I'd invite you in for a cuppa to say thanks but I have to go get some dinner before the chippy closes. Banksy! Shush!"

A black and white dog appeared, a blue leash held demurely in its mouth. It looked up at him curiously as Theresa attached the leash to its collar before it started to wag its tail in a friendly way.

"Come on boy," she said gently, closing the door behind her, "Thanks again for returning my music. I was afraid I'd have to start again," she told him as she passed him on the steps, "Well, see you around. I hope you have fun at your Dumas convention."

Without a look back, she and the dog set off down the street and Kevin was left with the feeling that something had just gone wrong in his world. She hadn't fawned over him, hadn't giggled and flirted with him or made thinly veiled attempts to get into his jeans.

In fact, she'd acted as if she...didn't know who he was?

He shrugged it off. Not his problem. So what if one girl didn't know who he was?

But seriously, how could she NOT know who he was?! Had she been raised in a paper bag for most of her life or something?!

He stalked off, sulking and telling himself that he didn't care.

At all

Really.

But he did set off down the same street, in the same direction that she'd just disappeared down.

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_**Author's Note:**__ Kevin has just learnt a valuable lesson - you're world famous only to those who actually follow whatever it is that you do. Write it down, children, there may be a test on it later. (just kidding!)_


	2. I Walk Alone

**Author's Note: **OK, one of m friends pointed out that I hadn't said who Dumas was. For those interested – he wrote the story of 'The Man in The Iron Mask'. You can see why Theresa made that connection; she's a clever girl

Kevin: Enough chitchat, they're not here for a history lesson, they're here to read the story!

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"...that's two fish and chips, one no salt or vinegar, one just vinegar and two cans of diet Pepsi, anything else?"

"Yes, a sausage in batter, please." Theresa replied, leaning on the plastic countertop, her heels off the ground and she did so (she was just slightly too short to lean on it properly. A couple of boys her own age snickered when she placed her last order but she ignored them.

"Chips with that as well, love?" the counter woman at Dan's Fish & Chips, a grey haired lady in her 50's with pink and green striped framed glasses and a mole almost in the middle of her forehead, asked.

"No, on it's own, it's just to keep Banksy from bothering us whilst we're eating...hey, does the weekend guy still think he's Elvis?"

"Good grief, no!" the woman laughed, "he's on better medication now. That's eight pounds and fifty pence please, love"

Obediently, she handed over a ten-pound note and then took her change as she waited for her order. Absently, she cracked open one of the cans of Pepsi and took a drink whilst she was waiting and hummed gently under her breath.

It took a few seconds for her to realise that the rest of the people in the chip shop had gone quiet, but when she turned around to look all she saw was the man from earlier. That bloke...oh, what had he said his name was? Come on, it wasn't as if she met a lot of people who wore iron masks...Oh, big deal, what did it matter? Wasn't as if she'd see him again after this. It was likely a coincidence he was in the same chippy as her, even Dumas fans had to eat, right?

"That mine?" she asked the woman behind the counter, who blinked and nodded, handing over the bag of fried food.

"Thanks, Eppie," she said with a smile and headed towards the door, giving him a polite "Hello again," and then because he seemed like the type, added: "I recommend the fish here, it's really good," as she went past him and untied Banksy's leash from the drainpipe outside. "Come on, Banksy. Home now."

The dog barked eagerly at the smell of the food. He knew, KNEW there was a treat in there for him AND the nice man from before had patted him on the head. Banksy was a happy dog indeed.

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Kevin really didn't like feeling off balance. That girl...she REALLY didn't know him? Everyone else had but she hadn't.

He felt...odd.

No, he felt ANNOYED! She hadn't remembered his name! He'd seen her trying to remember his name, seen it flicker across her eyes.

What the bloody hell was wrong with her?

What the bloody hell was wrong with HIM? He was letting it get to him that ONE person in the whole city didn't know his name. Didn't matter, he wasn't here to be admired, he was here to win wrestling matches.

He ordered the fish; she couldn't've known it was his favourite food. Lucky guess

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"That you Theresa?" James 'Gramps' Chappen called, hearing the door opening.

"No, it's a burglar," she giggled back, putting the bag on the hall table and unhooking Banksy's leash from his collar, "I stole Theresa's key, dog and dinner and came here to rob you blind."

"Well, can I eat before you rob me blind?"

"I guess" she came into the living room, bag of food in her hand once again, "had them mark up which is which."

The old man, well, to be fair, the middle aged man, for he was just entering his 50's, had a short ponytail and looked up at her from behind his glasses. Most people meeting him for the first time though that he looked rather like a clean but ageing hippie, and they were correct. He had been a hippie in the 60's and retained most of their beliefs but had given up on 'free love' when he'd met and eventually married Theresa's grandmother, Harmony.

He was Theresa's only living family and she loved him to death. The only rule he'd ever really enforced for her was 'as long as you don't hurt yourself or anyone else'.

"How was school?" He asked, taking a polystyrene box from his granddaughter.

"Pretty good, started on Hamlet in English, new music teacher who doesn't think that music began and ended with the Gregorian period," Theresa sat down beside him on the sofa, taking the metal fork offered and spearing a chip, "Oh! And the maths teacher's off ill again. Half the school's betting on flu, the other half says he's had a nervous breakdown," she put the chip in her mouth and then opened the box with the battered sausage for Banksy, breaking it into pieces for him, watching as the dog tucked in, tail wagging like crazy.

"The maths teacher...that's Mrs Samuel, isn't it?"

"Yeah, you met her last summer,"

"Oh...the one who called you a 'time wasting daydreamer', that one?"

"That's the one,"

"Nervous breakdown," he told her, "heard it from her husband."

"Yes! Rea owes me a fiver!"

"Now, now,"

"I know, I know...what movie did you bring?"

"Ah, you'll like this. I brought 'Tommy'"

"REALLY?! Please tell me you're not joking!"

"Would I lie to you?"" Her grandfather held up a slim DVD case 'Tommy – The Pinball Wizard' was printed on the front, then held the player controls aloft, "Before we start...done your homework?"

"After I had a shower,"

"Practiced for your music lessons?"

"Planning on that after dinner."

"Walked Banksy?"

"Whilst getting dinner."

"Alright then, let's rock."

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Kevin, meanwhile, sat on a park bench, eating the fried fish that girl had recommended. He had to admit, she hadn't lied to him, it WAS really good.

WHY was he letting himself dwell on her? He'd even followed her home, to make sure she got there OK, despite how much of a tough act her dog put on.

In the back of his mind, Kevin was more than a little jealous of what he'd seen of her home life, she seemed to have so much freedom, she even attended school with others! He was even willing to bet that she had friends, that was something he'd never had, never been allowed to have since almost all of his childhood had been taken up with training and home schooling full of long difficult and boring lessons.

He SHOULDN"T be dwelling! He didn't know her, she didn't know him and obviously didn't care and...

Why was THAT making him smile?

He shook his head; he was probably training too hard. Maybe it was time to take a break, just a night. Yeah, a night off from training would probably clear his head.

He stood and dumped the now empty food packaging into a waste bin. It'd been awhile since he'd just looked around the city. He'd take a walk by himself, sightsee a little and chill out.

He hoped he still knew how to relax.

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_Author's Note: Aww, Kevin, you're such a cute little troubled child (pats him). OK, I know this is short and boring, I PROMISE something more interesting will happen in the next one._

_Muscial reference: Pinball Wizard, 'There's a guy works down the chip shop swears he's Elvis' (yes, that's a song! Look it up) and Greenday._


	3. Don't Need Another Hero

Saturday dawned, it was cold and wet, but Kevin remained sitting on the park bench he'd started his walk from last night. He hadn't been able to relax at all and even worse, it'd taken him a whole 3 minutes to knock out a group of 5 punks who'd tried to mug him.

A dog barking made him look up. It was enough to convince him that he was slowly but surely going insane, because it was HER dog and SHE was there with it, holding a bright orange ball for it to play fetch with.

"Ready? Ready?" she asked, holding it above her head

Banksy crouched on his forepaws watching it with interest, waiting until...She threw it!

It bounced and rolled, by some fluke it hit the metal rail and bounced into the road, naturally Banksy went after it, grabbing it in his jaws and shaking it about as if it were a piece of game meat.

Intent on its rubber ball, the dog didn't hear the lorry coming towards it nor its owner's calling.

"Banksy! Banksy, come here! GET AWAY FROM THE ROAD!"

For second time held still, the lorry's horn sounded and the driver shouted crossly...then Kevin stood in front of her, Banksy in his arms.

"This is yours I believe,"

He put the unharmed dog down on the ground where it dropped the ball, yipped happily then jumped up and tried to lick his face before trotting gently to Theresa's side, who knelt down and hugged her dog tightly, heart thudding madly in her chest.

"You stupid, STUPID animal!" She scolded, voice slightly shaky "Don't you EVER scare me like that again!" She then turned her attention to Kevin and stood up, "And _**YOU**_! You're an idiot! _**AN IDIOT!**_ You could've been _**hurt!**_" she punctuated each sentence with a weak, slightly hysterical, slap to his shoulder.

He just stood there stunned. Partly over her hitting him but mostly because no one had ever been concerned about the possibility of him getting hurt before.

"Y-you're dirty..." she said eventually, wiping her face with her coat sleeve, "both of you are,"

Kevin looked down at himself...Well, he couldn't deny that; his shirt and jogging trousers were covered with mud and soaked through where the lorry had gone through a puddle. He'd have to find a laundrette or use the machines at the YMCA, or maybe he could get the IWF to pay up for dry cleaning.

However, fate had other plans for him, because the girl suddenly said: "C-come with me...you can use my shower…and…I'll…I'll run your clothes through the washing machine for you..."

"You don't have to."

"Yes, I do...least I can do to say thank you...for saving Banksy,"

Banksy barked cheerfully, as if encouraging him to say yes, and wagged his tail but stuck close to Theresa's side as if realising that his owner needed him in her sight and near her right now.

"I...suppose," Kevin conceded eventually, "If it's not too much trouble."

It beat using the communal showers at the YMCA or other places he usually stayed, at least he wouldn't have to share with a dozen others.

"No, i-it's fine...come on..." she clipped the leash to the dog's collar and gave it a small tug, "come on Banksy, home now."

It wasn't a long walk back to her house, after all, they both knew the way there.

The interior surprised Kevin. I was clean but not as clinically as his father's house, the walls were creamy coloured and mostly covered in framed photographs, documenting the lives of the occupants. They liked photos here...His father'd never had anything but painted portraits of long dead ancestors.

Despite himself, Kevin felt a tiny pang of jealousy. Theresa broke him out of his thoughts once more by tapping him on the shoulder.

"Bathroom's upstairs, middle door on the right, you can't miss it, I'm...going to wash Banksy down here in the kitchen...uh...shout if you need something."

She led her dog down the corridor, out of his sight, leaving him alone in the hall at the bottom of the stairs.

Well, he wasn't going to get clean standing her staring after her. He hoped the water was hot.

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"The heck is wrong with you, girl?" Theresa asked herself aloud, with a shake of her head, "inviting a total stranger into the house to use the shower. He could be anyone. I must be crazy,"

Banksy yipped at her, up to his knees in water in an old tin bath that they used specifically for washing him.

"Don't agree with me!" she said, splashing some more water onto the dog's fur, "Come on, be supportive here...tell me I did the right thing?"

Banksy licked her cheek and wagged his tail a little, flicking water into his owner's hair and onto her face.

"Thank you," she laughed softly, wiping her face, and then started to rub shampoo over her pet…"Crazy. Toys in the attic, I am crazy. Truly gone fishing. They must have taken my marbles away..."

A few minutes after Banksy was washed and the dirty water emptied out into the drain in the garden, the guest...uh...what was his name? Think!...Kevin! It suddenly came back to her; anyway, he called for her.

Of all the things she was expecting to see when she got upstairs, it wasn't to see him looking out from around the doorframe of the bathroom, still in his mask but his hair was wet and... Theresa's eyes widened and a furious blush instantly spread across her face. She could see his bare chest...oh my god...

"There's...no towels in here," he told her.

"I'll...I'll get one for you," and she went to the airing cupboard, just a few steps away down the hall, choosing the biggest one she could find. She didn't look at him as she handed him the large white fluffy towel, cheeks still a bright crimson and her eyes clenched shut, though the image was now burned onto the inside of her eyelids.

"I'm...I'm going downstairs to make some lunch...there's gramp's dressing gown for you in the...the spare room...uh...just...g-give me your clothes and...I'll wash them for you...OK? Bye!"

She all but bolted down the stairs to the kitchen once he'd handed her his clothes. She couldn't go back up there. Not right now.

No way!

Ok, focus: first things first. Put his clothes in the machine...

OK, that done...Make lunch...concentrate on making lunch. What's it going to be? Umm...pasta! Pasta was pretty quick and easy...and salad, there was a bag of mixed lettuce leaves in the fridge. Yeah. Lunch...make lunch...Don't think about who's upstairs.

Damn, why did her (long overdue) "I like boys!" phase have to kick in NOW?!

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Well, at least THAT had been more like the reactions he was used to, Kevin mused, though, to be honest, she'd seemed more surprised than anything else.

She was pretty when she blushed...he shook his head violently. No thoughts like that! She was doing him favours in return for rescuing her pet.

NO thoughts about her looking pretty, just thank her for the shower, robe, clothes wash and food and get back to training once it's all over. Forget about her, she's nothing, just a random stranger you've run into a few times in the last few days...

_Who...doesn't know that you're famous or who your father is. She has no expectations of you except to be polite and thank her for her hospitality. And got worried because you might've been hurt saving her dog._

She was just being nice! It's the polite thing to do.

_She didn't have to invite you here. The POLITE thing to do would've just been to say 'thank you' and walk away. Maybe she likes you?_

She doesn't know me! She can't like me!

_She must like you on some level. And you must like h-_

Enough! He shook his head again, almost giving himself a headache in the process. He dried himself off and, having wrapped the towel firmly around his waist, went in search of the spare room and the promised dressing gown.

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_Author's Note: Denial much, Kevvy?_

_Kevin: I do NOT think she's pretty! I'm beyond things like that! And DON'T call me 'Kevvy'_

_Author: pats his shoulder you just keep telling yourself that and I shall prove you wrong._


	4. Let Me Sleep

_Author's Note: My GOD! This took a long time. Sorry for anyone who was waiting but some stuff came up. Aaaanyway. Enjoy your fanservice._

_Kevin: Fanservice? What fanservice? What have you written into this thing, woman?!_

_Author: Oooh nooooothing... (whistles innocently)_

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_A door creaked gently open_

"_Oh sugar...!"_

_Footsteps quietly padded over and something touched the side of his neck gently, he made a soft noise of protest and whatever it was moved with a small sound of relief._

_The footsteps carefully padded away again and the door creaked shut._

_Perfect, unbroken silence reigned for a long while._

Kevin opened his eyes...mm, soft mattress under his back, that was a nice change...a glance at the clock on the table beside the bed showed he'd been asleep for nearly 3 hours!

Wait a minute...where was he?!

Oh...right...he was in that girl's...Theresa...her spare room. He'd come in, put the robe on...sat down and...that was the last thing he remembered.

Odd, he'd never slept this well, not even when he'd lived at his father's house, probably because he'd always had to stay up late then been woken up again early for lessons and training...then again, this wasn't his father's home.

A series of thumping noises made him sit up. Honestly, if the girl was in trouble again!

Standing and stretching he exited the spare room. Theresa's bedroom wasn't hard to locate, mostly because it had 'Theresa's Room' written in blue, white and black plastic letters that'd been stuck to the door...He knocked, but there was no answer, so cautiously, he pushed the door open and paused, slightly taken aback by the amount of music paraphernalia that covered the walls. This girl REALLY liked her music.

Theresa herself was sitting at her desk, ears covered by a pair of headphones that were plugged into the electric keyboard that was sitting on top of the desk, fingers fairly flying over the keys, head nodding slightly in keeping with a tempo, the back of one shoe thumping against the leg of her chair, looking totally swept away by the music only she could hear.

Though he felt like an intruder for it, he tapped her shoulder, making her jump nearly out of her skin.

"Don't DO that!" she scolded, pulling the headphones down to hang around her neck with one hand, then realised who it was, blushed a little and looked down at the keyboard, "You're awake."

"Apparently. You let me sleep?"

"Kind of reasoned that if you were asleep, you must've needed the rest, right?"

"Maybe," he shrugged noncommittally, not denying or confirming that. Then something else occurred to him. "Did you…check on me earlier?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes firmly on the musical instrument in front of her, "I got worried when you didn't come back downstairs, thought maybe you'd slipped in the shower or passed out or...died...or something...so I came up to look for you and then I checked your pulse. Then I left you alone and came in here to practice."

Kevin paused. How to react to that? No one had checked on him since he was small and his mother was alive.

"Thanks" he said eventually, with a nod in her direction.

Theresa looked up, mouth opening to speak then stopped. She stared with wide eyes for a few seconds, and then covered her eyes with her hands, cheeks going crimson again. "C-close the robe. Please?"

"Huh?" he looked down...and was glad that he was still wearing his mask so she couldn't see him blush. The borrowed dressing gown's sash had come undone in his sleep and the robe was open...and all of his clothes were, he assumed, still in Theresa's washing machine.

As quickly as he could he tied the robe shut again, not sure which one of them was blushing the most.

"OK, you can open your eyes."

"You're sure?"

Despite himself; Kevin gave a soft laugh, "I'm sure."

"Thank god," she lowered her hands and blinked a little as her eyes got used to the light again, "My Grandma always told me that I'd go blind if I looked at a naked bloke."

"I don't think you'll really go blind,"

"Are you calling my grandma a liar?" she quirked an eyebrow at him, earlier embarrassment apparently forgotten, though the blush remained it had faded to a light pink.

"Yep," he nodded.

"Fair enough," Theresa shrugged with a small smile, then paused, "I put your clothes in the dryer about an hour ago, they should be done by now..."

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Theresa had just grown up quite a lot in the space of a few minutes...or had what was left of her innocence removed, if you wanted to look at it that way

She'd never taken much interest in the opposite sex.

Oh, she wasn't a feminist. She didn't hate men. Christ, her best friend since year one of primary school was a boy called Mickey Dolenz who lived just two streets away, but she'd just never seen gender as an issue to anything.

When her friends had hit puberty they'd almost instantly gone out and bought the standard preteen and teenage girls magazines and cooed and squealed over 'how cute' the pretty boy boyband members were, Theresa'd just shrugged and analysed their song lyrics. (Which, by the way, were crap!)

She understood sex and reproduction; she'd sat through the same biology lessons as her friends...and shrugged them off, she understood that men and women get together and make babies. She could see the need to continue the species; she just didn't see how any of it applied to her.

Until about 10 minutes ago 'gender' had just been a word in her vocabulary.

She knew different now and tried not to blush again as she handed Kevin his clothes, still slightly warm from the dryer and tried not to think about how he looked without them, though the image kept attempting to superimpose itself over her vision.

He took his clothes with a nod of thanks and headed upstairs to get changed again and…Theresa put the kettle on because right now she REALLY needed a mug of tea. Typically British maybe but it really DID help a hell of a lot.

She grabbed the kettle from the cupboard beside the stove and filled it at the sink. It was one of the old fashioned ones that heated on the stove and whistled when it boiled.

Her fingers beat out a brief tattoo on the metal sink as the kettle filled, then she fired up the gas stove and put it on to boil.

Just think about making tea...Don't be an idiot and try to get his attention because, even if he does somehow fancy you, unlikely though that is, you'll still get hurt.

Don't be like your mum...

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_Author: what was your mum like, Theresa?_

_Theresa:...isn't that a spoiler for the next few chapters?_

_Author: true. OK, musical references: Baba O'Riley by The Who (not mentioned but it's what Theresa's playing on her keyboard) Theresa's friend is named after Micky Dolenz from the 60's band The Monkees and the title is from a song by Texas._


	5. PennyRoyal Tea

_Author's Note: well, things seem to be going pretty well...Kevin gets to keep his clothes on for this one (unfortunately)_

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A week or so had passed since the incident at that girl's house. A week or so since Kevin had last seen her.

He didn't care…really

It was whilst running along the streets during his morning training that his brain decided to point out that he was coming up to Theresa's street.

"_You could stop by...maybe she'll make you some tea like last time?" _

There wasn't anything special about the last time she made him a cup of tea!

Just that she hadn't bombarded him with stupid questions about who he was, his past and all that, she'd been polite, thanking him again for saving her pet, didn't mention the incident with the dressing gown and didn't chatter annoyingly and the tea was pretty good; apparently her grandfather didn't like teabags and bought loose teas, so Theresa had to mix it up herself and seep it in a filter kettle. Damned if he knew what kind of tea it was but it was pretty good.

And she'd...she'd looked pretty with a slight blush on her cheeks…

...he COULD call in. _**JUST**_ for the tea though.

Only, when he reached Theresa's part of the street, he stopped running a few doors away, watching with slight interest. A boy with platinum white hair that was styled to obscure his right eye, dressed in a school uniform stood on the doorstep of Theresa's house, knocking the door loudly.

"Theresa!" the boy called, "Come on! Open up!"

Silence for a few minutes then the door opened and Theresa looked out.

"Mickey?" she blinked at him blearily, wearing the majority of her uniform but minus her shoes, socks and school tie. Her hair, he noticed that it was now pale blond, the dye must have washed out, and it needed a brush too, "what're you doing here?" she asked, rubbing her eyes.

"It's 7.30am on Friday, we have to go to school for one more day before the weekend, remember?" he looked her up and down "...and you fell asleep at your desk because you were composing most of the night again, huh?"

"It just wouldn't leave me alone..." she yawned, delicately covering her mouth, and leaned against the doorframe sleepily, "just kept playing and playing in my head..."

Kevin blinked. Composing? Composing what? That music he'd returned to her? He wondered what it sounded like...NO, no he didn't. He didn't care about her!

"You do realise that we have to be at school by 8.30 and it's" he checked his watch "...7.40 right now?" Mickey interrupted gently, "keeping in mind that we have to catch the tube to get there?"

"Ack! I'll be right back!"

"Can she beat last week's record, folks?"

"Shut up...and who are you talking to?"

"You're wasting valuable dressing time," he singsonged at her

With a huff she bolted back inside and shut the door, Mickey, still laughing, pressed a button on his watch.

More silence then it was just possible, on the edge of hearing, to make out some thumping noises and...Theresa telling off her dog.

"Banksy! No! Bad dog! BAD dog! Give…me…my…tie…_**back**_!"

A few minutes passed before the door opened again and Theresa reappeared. This time fully dressed with shoes, socks, tie, her hair neatly brushed and her school bag over her shoulder.

"How long was that?" she asked, closing the door behind her.

"5 minutes and 45 seconds," Mickey announced, looking at his watch, "that's a whole 2 minutes and 10 seconds off last time, you're getting quicker."

"Come on, let's go!"

Kevin blinked. Who was the boy? Her boyfriend? No…he knew women, a boyfriend wouldn't have been greeted with banter, a boyfriend would've been given a kiss...right?

Bah! He didn't care! He was only disappointed that he wasn't going to get a cup of tea.

...He'd come back later.

He didn't see Theresa turn and look back, eyes widening as she recognised him.

-------------------

"...so Mark told me that Tom and Travis are...Hey, are you listening?"

"Hmm?" Theresa blinked up at Mickey, "I'm…I'm sorry?" she'd been thinking about her sighting of Kevin, what was he doing on her street?

...coming to see her? Her heart pumped slightly faster at the thought, despite her efforts to extinguish that thought.

"Oh, that hurts," Mickey made a 'stabbed through the heart' gesture, "here I am keeping you up to date with the real world and you're not even listening. Since when are you a bad listener, Tezza?"

"Uh...I'm sorry Mickey," she yawned, delicately covering her mouth, "tell me again?"

"Doesn't seem like there's much point, you're a million miles away."

"Am not, I'm sitting right next to you on this tube train" she winked and stuck her tongue out at him.

"Ha ha, it is to laugh," he cuffed her ear gently, "so...what's keeping you from listening to my story?"

"I'm tired"

"Never stopped you before," he nudged her, "does it have anything to do with the guy who was in your spare room when I dropped in last week?"

"W-w-w-what?! No!" Theresa blushed guiltily, "I've...I've no clue what the hell you're talking about! I'm…I'm just knackered from composing all night, that's all"

Her friend grinned to himself. So, Theresa had finally become aware that she was human after all. She'd been acting odd since last week but he'd pretty much let it slide because it was only a little.

"Man, and I've had you all to myself until now," He teased, putting an arm around her shoulders, "It'll suck if I lose you to some other bloke," he nuzzled her cheek playfully, "know what I mean?"

"No," she shook her head, "I don't. I really, really don't...and here's our stop."

That officially shut him up on that subject as they grabbed their bags and got off at the station.

Theresa didn't talk much for the rest of the morning, which worried Mickey. She wasn't the most talkative person but she was never this silent.

"Tezza, are you OK?" Mickey asked eventually as they sat together at a lunch table.

"Mickey…am I weird?" she asked, swirling the contents of her can of lemonade distractedly.

"Hm?" Mickey paused, his forkful of greasy, school-made, 'if you've got to ask what's in it you're not hungry enough', curry halfway to his mouth, "Weird how?"

"Well…I'm not…I've never been...Look, you know when my female friends..."

"When they became shallow, yeah. So what?"

"Am I weird…for not being like them?"

"You mean by not having a crisis every 5 minutes because your hair got wet or this really cute boy you like spoke to you or the shoes that you'd totally kill for are too expensive and your mum won't buy them for you? Like that, you mean?" he put his fork down and gave her a look, "Tezza, this isn't like you. Since when do you care about being like every other girl in the school?"

"Since that guest last week..."

"You think you've become shallow because you found out that you're not immune to the charms of the male species? It was bound to happen sooner or later," he smiled...but quickly realised that had been the wrong thing to say because Theresa's eyes immediately filled with tears.

"…I don't want to end up like my mum…"

"Tezza," he sighed, "not every bloke is like your dad."

"No...some of them are gay" she replied cynically, roughly wiping away the tears that were forming.

"Yeah...you're talking to one of them."

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Kevin was starting to seriously believe that he was very slowly losing his mind.

It was getting dark and a cold rain was starting to set in and he had to ask himself WHY he was waiting on someone's doorstep just for a cup of tea. Had been waiting for about two hours now.

For a damned cup of tea!

It was 5.15pm now, he knew for a fact that most schools let out at 3.35...so where the hell was she?!

Oh forget it, this was a lost cause; he didn't even know what the hell he was doing here! He should get back to training anyway.

Soft footsteps and a jangle of keys made him look over his shoulder. HOW had she got there without him noticing?!

"Theresa?"

"Jesus Christ!" she jumped, his voice apparently breaking her forcibly out of her own thoughts.

"No...just me." He had to laugh, at least mentally, stepping into her line of view.

"Kevin?" She blinked in surprise, "wh-what brings you here?"

He paused. What HAD brought him here? Really? Wait...was she blushing?

"...Tea," he said eventually. Yes, he was here for tea. JUST the tea. He was an English gent, he liked tea when it was well made and she made it well...It was all in his mind.

"Tea?" she blinked again, raising an eyebrow "You came to have tea with me?"

Hearing her say it made him realise how old fashioned that sounded...but she gave him a shy smile, "why not? Sure, come in. Give me 5 minutes to get changed and I'll make some."

------------------------------------

_Author: awww, Kevvy, you waited around in the rain just to see her? You little romantic you!_

_Kevin: it was for TEA! I was only there for the TEA! Got it?!_

_Author: Yep...You're in denial X3…anyway, music references. Title is from Nirvana & guess the band reference (Mickey mentions them by name ;) ))_


	6. Sweet Little Lies

_**Author's Note:**__ Want to send a shout-out to LucrectiaDecoy for the encouragement and for the idea of what sort of tea to include in this chapter._

_Kevin: are you going to babble like this EVERY chapter?_

_Author: shut up and drink your tea._

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Kevin stood looking at some of the photos on the walls. They charted the lives of the occupants, starting with a black and white wedding photo of a young couple, then a sepia one of the same couple with a young baby, the photos progressed in the same way, with the baby getting older, growing into a teenager, then a blonde baby, obviously Theresa, started appearing.

What finally struck him was that, eventually, people started to vanish. First the young woman, (Theresa's mother? He wondered) stopped appearing. Then the older woman vanished a few more photos along.

What'd happened to them?

More to the point...what'd happened to Theresa? She'd gone upstairs about 15 minutes ago.

He wasn't worried...women reputedly took a long time to get dressed. Then again, so far, Theresa hadn't acted like the women he normally met...maybe he should check on her.

A dim part of his mind noted that it was like returning the favour...

She was curled up on her bed, fully dressed in jeans and a loose, tie-dyed blouse, but fast asleep, with the rapidly fading sunlight shining on her through her window and her hands resting under her head, she looked relaxed...she looked…

_Cute_

WHERE had that come from?!

He was better than this…this…human emotion…right?

"_Cute…" _the voice at the back of his mind insisted stubbornly_, "and nice and polite AND she's pretty and she must like you to keep inviting you in…"_

"Shut _**UP**_!"

He only realised that he'd said it out loud when Theresa suddenly blinked and sat up on her elbows, "Mmm? You say something'?" she yawned gently, covering her mouth politely.

"No…just wondering if you were going to keep your promise to make some tea,"

"Oh? Oh! I'm sorry," she sat up on her knees and rubbed her eyes, "I came in, got changed, sat down and…guess I fell asleep."

"Seems the tables turned"

She blinked, still sleepy, but then smiled as she got what he was talking about.

"Yeah, I suppose so," she covered her mouth once more to stifle another yawn. "Come on then, I'll put the kettle on...are you hungry? What time is it?"

"It's 15 minutes later than when you got home,"

She gave him a blank look

"5.30"

"Oh right...thanks," she stretched her arms above her head and leaned backwards slightly as she did so, there were some slight clicking noises as she did…and he tried not to notice that her blouse moved upwards slightly showing off her navel and some of her stomach for a few seconds,

"My sense of time's been completely off today, I was up into the early hours..." she stopped, "but you're probably not interested in hearing that, come on, let's make some tea," and she promptly got off her bed and started for downstairs.

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He watched, sitting at the kitchen table, as she filled the kettle and put it on the stove to boil, then moved around the kitchen looking for different tealeaves and herbs to mix up. It was...interesting to say the least since she talked to herself slightly as she looked for ones that were proving elusive.

"...Ginseng," she murmured, pulling herself up onto a counter to reach the top shelf of a cupboard "...where is the ginseng?…did we use it up already…?"

"Where is your dog today?" he asked, just for something to say.

"Hmm?" she looked towards him, a jar of something in her hand, "Banksy? Gramps took him to work with him today, he does when I have band practice."

"You play in a school band?"

"No…I play in a band outside of school, I'm on keyboards…well, I'm playing with them as a stand in whilst one of the members is away with family commitments."

All the music stuff in her bedroom, plus the fact that he'd seen her playing a keyboard last time, it figured she'd be in a band.

"What's the band called?" Not really knowing why he was asking at all since he knew nothing about music beyond the genre and few bands that he liked.

"Verleide," she told him, sitting with her legs dangling off the counter top, jar of whatever it was now beside her, "they're an underground band. No CD's or anything but they're really good with a pretty big following, I was lucky they even considered just letting me audition for them."

"But if they don't even have a recording contract surely they can't afford to be THAT picky?"

"Don't you believe it, they're VERY picky because they take their music VERY seriously. I couldn't believe it when they told me they wanted me to play with them, I thought I'd died and gone to Heaven or that I was dreaming or something."

Her whole face lit up when she talked about music, he noticed, normally he would've been complaining about bloody babbling by this point, but this wasn't babbling, this was someone sharing their passion with him and for once it had nothing to do with wrestling, that itself was a novelty.

"Ack," Theresa's sudden loud smack to her forehead with the palm of her hand broke him out of these thoughts, "and I'm babbling all this stuff at you that you're probably not interested in," she said, "sorry..."

"It's…OK, don't worry about it."

"No it's not, you're the guest and I'm talking about myself, sorry," she looked honestly embarrassed and started mixing together some of the tea things she'd collected in the filter of the teapot, "and I thought my mother taught me better than that,"

As if by some miraculous cue to spare her further apologising, the kettle on the stove began to whistle loudly, alerting both of them that the water was boiled.

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"So...you're NOT a Dumas fan, right?"

Theresa wished she could kick herself or vanish into a deep hole somewhere. She was sort of wishing that she'd paid attention to her female friends when they'd talked about various dates they'd been on or boys they'd hung out with. She had no clue about talking to a bloke who wasn't Mickey.

Instead she contented herself with taking a drink of her tea. Lady Grey with ginseng and honey...well, ginseng and honey for her, she'd made Kevin some plain Lady Grey, mostly because she didn't know if he was allergic to ginseng and he'd refused when she'd asked if he wanted honey in his tea.

"No," Kevin shook his head, "I'm not. What made you think that I was?"

"The mask that you're wearing," she admitted gently, "You know…because Dumas wrote the story of 'The Man in the Iron Mask'…I assumed you were a fan who was visiting the city for a convention of some sort."

"No, I've read Dumas…but I'm not a fan. It's...a sort of family tradition, you see…because of the career the men in my family usually follow."

"Oh? What do you do?"

He paused as if trying to work out the best way to phrase it, "Nothing important, we're...Look, have you ever heard of the IWF?"

Actually…she had!

The International Wildlife Federation!

"You work with animals?" Well, that sort of explained the mask, must be to protect his face when working with the larger animals. Though she wondered what he looked like without his mask on, and had to remind herself sharply that she wasn't interested in him THAT way.

AT ALL.

No way in hell was she going to fall for any bloke. ESPECIALLY not tall muscled ones that had saved her dog and somehow made her feel protected when she was in his company.

Damn…she could feel herself starting to blush again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Work with animals…?

Well, technically, he supposed, if you counted all of the Chojins based around animals (plus the fact that idiot Mantaro Kinniku looked and acted like a pig most of the time) he COULD say that he worked with animals.

"Yes, you could say that," he nodded eventually, "large animals mostly."

"Like tigers and other big cats?"

...Again, technically yes.

"And Dik diks and walrus," he said, for some reason he didn't want her to know that he was famous or what he was famous for...she was ignorant of who he was and what he did…

And he was starting to find that he liked it that way.

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_**Author:**__ the more astute amongst you may have gathered by now that Theresa is NOT into sports. _

_At all_

_And also that Kevin's just told her a whopper of a lie...will there be problems if Theresa ever finds out the truth? Even__** I**__ don't know and I'm the author! _

**Musical references:** 'Verleide' is a fictional band created my friend xKiaxExPyrosx who gets BIG hugs for letting me mention them, there's also a vague reference to "Sunshine of your love" by Cream and the title is from Fleetwood Mac.


	7. Bittersweet Symphony

_Author's Note: well, you finally learn what happened between Theresa's parents in this one. So enjoy, 'kay?_

_Theresa: do you have to tell everyone?_

_Author: yes, it makes you more interesting and human. OK?_

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"What is this place and WHY are we here again?" Kevin asked, looking around at the club he'd somehow allowed Theresa to drag him to.

It was dimly lit but not so much that they couldn't see properly, there were lights in blue and green casting eerie light onto a small dance floor with a stage that was currently empty of people but set up in waiting for a band. It wasn't overly crowded like some of the dance clubs that he knew the New Generation Muscle leaguers went to, there were a quite a few people though, of all ethnicities and styles of dress, but there was an almost tangible atmosphere that was electrifying with anticipation, though he was trying not to let it affect him, in case someone he knew should somehow end up here and see him enjoying himself.

Theresa just laughed at his attitude, "It's a music bar," she explained, leading him to a table near a corner, "and we're here because you, my hard-working amigo, need to chill out and broaden your horizons a little."

He'd known the blonde musician for just over two months now, long enough for him to privately admit that it was nice to have someone he could even vaguely call his friend.

By now it was mid-November and he'd returned from Japan a few days ago, where he'd beaten his opponent into the mat, of course, but not before said opponent has left him with wounds on his back and arms and, though he wouldn't admit it aloud, he'd sort of enjoyed her fussing over him about it, even though she thought it'd been a large animal, not another wrestler, that'd left its mark on him.

"My horizons are exceptionally broad, thank you," he grouched as he sat down but without any real anger or malice.

"I meant musically,"

"They're still exceptionally broad."

"Oh really? So, if I said "His Name is Alive"...?"

"Whose name?"

"I rest my case," she smiled, slightly triumphantly, "You want something to drink?"

"Water please, the carbonated kind if they have it, if not just get me the still kind"

"Got it, see you in a minute"

He watched her as she headed towards the bar. Partly thinking about the implications of Theresa buying him a drink, but mostly he was trying not to think about the fact that Theresa was wearing a dress… a tie-dyed mini dress and that showed off that her legs went all the way up to- He WASN'T supposed to be thinking of her in that way! He DIDN'T like her that way! He didn't like ANYONE that way!

…even if it did look nice on her.

Yes, he was definitely losing his grip...

It took him a few minutes to realise that someone had sat down near him. Against his better judgement he turned his head to look, hoping it wasn't a fan who'd recognised him…

Instead of a raving fan, or even one of the styled people around the club, it was a very young woman; she couldn't have been more than twenty-two. Was it the light? Her skin was pale lavender, and her hair was so long it reached the floor, the same dark purple as her large eyes and lips... and was it waving like snakes? Almost looked as if it was alive,

"So you're Theresa's boy?" she asked with a harmonic voice and a teasing smile, leaning on her purple hands, elbows on the tabletop.

"Excuse me?" How did THIS person know Theresa?

"Mm hmm," the lady said, closing her eyes briefly before observing him through one. "Her boy? It's an American slang, I think, means her boyfriend. American teenagers are so silly, they cut every word in half so it doesn't even make sense half the time..." realizing she'd drifted off-topic, she blinked. "...Oh. Sorry. Babbled away for a bit. Theresa's in my band, in case you were wondering," she winked at him.

Boyfriend?! She thought he was Theresa's boyfriend?! What'd she been telling them?!

"Wait, you mean Verleide?" he asked once he'd regained some calm, "you're a member?" then mentally he kicked himself, she'd just SAID she was…being referred to as Theresa's boyfriend had almost totally knocked his mind off course.

But it did answer why Theresa had brought him here – she wanted him to hear her play…wait a minute…why?

The lady nodded. "I'm the lead singer and Theresa's backup. The clever girl can play nearly three instruments at once and sing at the same time!" she giggled a little. "Reminds me of my son. His voice is so shy, though, he never could have sung up front, "and you wrestle, correct?" she asked suddenly.

"No," he protested...oh damn, please don't let her be a fan...she'd tell Theresa and the...friendship...they'd built up would be over because she'd probably become another fangirl…he didn't want that! He didn't quite know why, but he DIDN'T want her to become a fangirl.

The lady smiled kindly. "Don't worry. I know what you do." She reached across the table and tapped the end of his 'nose' like a mother would to her child. "I won't tell her. And I doubt Theresa would become a... what did you say it was? Fangirl? She's not that fond of wrestling anyway. Whenever it comes onto the telly she changes it. Gets into fights with Whiskers about it, nosy cat."

How did she know what he was thinking…and how did you fight with a cat about wrestling?

"Thanks," he said eventually, but guardedly "you are…?"

"Oh! Sorry, dear, forgot all about introductions. Devloek, Devloek Nomabstre," she extended a hand, though with wrist bent, as if expecting him to kiss it.

"Kevin, Kevin Mask," he shook it instead, "I am NOT Theresa's boyfriend."

"No? All right, dear, if you say so," Devloek smiled and settled back in her seat. Now that her arms were down he could see her dress, which was all black with a dipping neckline and long, belled sleeves. "So then I take it Theresa dragged you here, then?"

"…something like that," he acknowledge grudgingly, though really all she'd done was gently take his arm and say, 'come on, I'll take you to a nice bar I know' and for some reason he hadn't been able to refuse her.

Devloek nodded and then glanced off to the stage. "Will you be staying for our show?" she asked, twirling a lock of purple around her long finger. "We've been working on it a while. Afraid my son's still not ready to come back yet. Dealing with the loss of his wife, you know," she added in a whisper. "Dreadful things. But you've no idea what I'm talking about, do you?"

"I'm…not in a hurry to go anywhere else," then looked up at a small, annoyed sounding cry from Theresa at the bar.

"…probably why your dad ran off!" a tall, dark haired boy was grinning meanly at her, even from this distance it was possible to tell he was almost completely hammered from the way he was swaying and the hand clutching the near empty pint glass was shaking.

Theresa seemed to be holding her cool but just barely.

Without thinking, Kevin stood up, ready to head over and defend his…his what? Oh forget it, a man was picking on a woman who didn't want his attentions and that was ungentlemanly. Yes…

Devloek, however, was much quicker; she frowned, pushed her seat back and glided - glided? She moved as if on wheels, as if her dress was just that and she had no legs - up to them quicker than any other human could have, and gently placed a hand on the boy's shoulder.

"I dare say that's quite a thing for you to say," she said lowly into the drunken boy's ear. "The way your mother raced out on you when you were six. One would think you'd have more compassion." And she ran a hand through his hair in an almost seductive manner.

He blinked and stared at her wide-eyed. "How-?" he managed.

Devloek growled at the boy, leaning in close to his ear, "I can be anything I want to be, including nasty. And right now you're bothering a good friend of mine. Perhaps you should leave now, dear. Your father's right where you left him, on the couch. Best move that bottle before the wine hits the outlet in the wall." She gave him a sharp shove towards the exit.

He saw Theresa calm slightly in the woman's presence, though even from here it was possible to see she was clutching the bottles of water so tightly that her fingers were white.

Eventually he managed to head over and gently but firmly lead her back to the table, though her head snapped up in surprise the second he took her arm to do so whilst he digested this new piece of information about his…friend.

Theresa's father had run out on her? That was probably why she'd never mentioned him.

The other woman stood stiffly, watching as the boy stumbled out the doors, then hurried back to the table, but stood standing this time. "You're all right, dear?" she asked Theresa softly, touching her shoulder.

"Yeah," the blonde girl nodded and have her a bright but strained smile, "I'm fine, he's just a twit who can't take 'no' as an answer...what time are we due on stage tonight?"

"Eight," Devloek replied. "Unless you want me to push it back a bit? I don't mind at all, and I dare say the others won't either."

"No," she shook her head, "no, I'm fine," this time her smile was genuine, "I dragged Kevin here, the least I can do is perform on time, right?"

"I suppose so," Devloek smiled back at her. "I'll be back to get the others. I think Zrynple's wandered off again, the poor boy. I just came out to say hi," she bent and ran a hand down Kevin's mask's cheek. "See you backstage, dear," And she glided off.

Kevin turned to look at Theresa, hands still gripping the bottles of water as if she wanted to shatter them (luckily they were plastic and only dented inwards slightly)

"Are sure you're alright?" he asked, unthinkingly putting a hand on her shoulder

"Fine," she replied, not looking up, "just annoys me when people use my father as an insult."

He could understand that, almost. He hated people talking to him about his own father, but generally they used Robin Mask as a comparison to his own behaviour, which certainly FELT like an insult, and he still resented his father…but maybe Theresa was different.

"Do you…miss him much?" he asked gently

She didn't answer for a long while, but her response, when it finally came, surprised him...

"You can't miss someone you never knew"

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_Author: Betcha didn't see THAT coming? Huh, didja?_

_Music Reference & credit where it's due: title from a song of the same title by The Verve, 'His Name is Alive' is an actual Indie Rock band,( look them up on youtube) _

_Verleide and 'Devloek Nomabstre' belong to my friend xKiaxExPyrosx - there's pictures of Devloek in her deviant art gallery. Artist's name is exactly the same as her fanfiction [dot net name._


	8. The Denial Twist

_**Author's note:**__ I want to apologise for the shortness of the last chapter, but my brain just wouldn't let me make it any longer._

_**Theresa:**__ and now the entire world knows I'm illegitimate. Terrific. _

_**Author:**__ stop complaining. It's not affected his feelings for you in anyway._

_**Kevin:**__ I do NOT fancy her!_

_**Author:**__ Whom, exactly, are you trying to convince?_

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"So, how was your date with your mystery man?" Micky asked, entering Theresa's room without preamble. Theresa herself was lying on her front on her bed with a large leather bound book propped up on a pillow in front of her and Banksy was lying on the rug nearest the window (where the radiator was)

"What mystery man?" she wanted to know, not looking up from her reading.

"You know which one," he replied, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, "the one you went out with on Saturday night. Jonathan Nikals told me he saw you…"

"What do I care what Jonathan Nikals told you? I don't care and it wasn't a date," She said distractedly, before turning a page, "just took him to the club where Verleide was playing."

"Uh huh, and WHEN was the last time you took ANY bloke, besides me, to hear you play? Go on, admit it, you went on a date with him"

"It WASN'T a date, Micky! I'm not interested in dating. Ever! Got it?"

"You don't have to get  all defensive about it," he teased, flopping down beside her, dropping am arm around her shoulders before giving her a reassuring squeeze.

"I'm NOT getting defensive!" She snapped defensively, shaking off his arm and sitting up on her knees, "I'm _trying_ to read!" she held her book out for inspection, as if it were a barrier against subjects like 'dating' and 'love'. Micky peered at the title. It figured, she was reading a copy of 'Beethoven - Life & Memoirs'.

"I didn't mean anything by it, Tezza," he pouted, giving her a look akin to a wounded puppy, " I just think it's something you should be able to talk to me about."

She faltered for a moment at the look and for that one moment he actually thought that she'd tell him about it…but then she shook her head, almost hard enough to give herself a headache and said:

"I don't _want _to talk about it, Micky! This conversation is over…"

"Yeah, but...  "

"_**OVER!"**_ she flopped back down with a sigh, dropping her book with a loud THUD that made Banksy look up curiously, realise it was nothing important and go back to sleep.

"Well, okay," Micky conceded finally…then the impish part of his personality showed up and made him say: "but just so you know…if you decide it WAS a date, you can talk to me about it"

Theresa sat up and hit him with her pillow.

"Wasn't a date! Now stop it!"

"Theresa is a boy-liker," He sang unrepentantly, laughing as he shielded himself from the blow with his arm, "took ya long enough,"

She suddenly stopped, physically sagged and flopped back onto the bed, covering her face with the pillow

Micky sighed and reached over to hug his friend tightly. He knew it was all really just a case of 'the lady doth protest too much' mixed in with a lot of fear.

If she didn't like this bloke she wouldn't even be giving him the time of day, let alone taking him to hear her play at her favourite music bar.

"You really do like this bloke, don't you?" he said softly,

After a few minutes, she nodded gently against his shoulder and whispered: "What'm I gonna do?"

He thought for a while then said, "Go for a walk…why not visit your mum? It's been a few months. Maybe it'll help clear your head."

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Kevin was sitting on a bench in a churchyard. He wasn't particularly religious but churchyards were generally quiet, places that he could think without hundreds of screaming fans or photographers…generally, even they had more respect than to do that sort of thing here.

He'd always found it strange that there was always an aura of quiet around these places, traffic went past but the noise seemed muted within the church grounds.

He was here because he was trying to clear his head, a pastime he was spending a lot of energy on in recent weeks.

A certain blond distraction took up a lot of his thoughts at the moment, which was completely unacceptable.

He didn't have time for distractions, he was supposed to training. THAT was the important thing in his life. He had to train and become the greatest wrestler in history. He shouldn't be spending time with blonde girls with infectious smiles, cute blushes and the voice of an angel...

He could STILL hear that song she and the lead singer of the band she was with had sung together. How'd it gone…?

"…_We'll all be forgotten_

_There's no endless fame_

_But everything we do _

_It's never in vain_

_We're part of a story, part of a tale._

_We're all on this journey; no one's to stay _

_Where is it going?_

_What is the way?_

_We're part of a story, part of a tale,_

_Sometimes beautiful, sometimes insane_

_No one remembers how it began…"_

He wished he could hit his head on something hard and forget about her. He just had to keep reminding himself that he didn't care about her at all.

Yes, that was what he should do…

She wasn't important!

She was a nobody!

She was a distraction from his training!

She was…at the church gates, carefully lifting the latch to let herself in.

He watched her walk along the path, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her jeans against the chill, apparently paying no attention to anything except where in the small churchyard she was headed…a small black granite headstone near the wall at the back, a foot or two away from where he was sitting.

"Hey mum," he heard her say, "it's me…"

He blinked…and a lot of things he's gleaned about her made sense. From here he could just about make out the engraving on the headstone:

_Here Lies the Earthly Remains of_

_**Melody Serefina Chappen**_

_Beloved daughter of James & Harmony Chappen_

_Much loved mother of Theresa Chappen_

_**April 15 1967 - May 26 1992**_

"_Our loss is Heaven's gain"_

Well, now he felt like a heel encroaching on a family moment!

Unacceptable!

So he stood up, intent of leaving, right now! Without even letting her know he'd been there! Yes! She could talk to a grave all she wanted! He'd personally be very surprised if it talked back!

………

Except that his body apparently had other ideas and made his feet carry him closer to her.

She had been talking gently but stopped when she heard him stop behind her. It was with a lot of caution that she turned her head and her eyes went wide and her face went first pale then scarlet, first from shock then from apparent embarrassment.

"Kevin…?" in a flash she was on her feet again, faster than he could blink and made to walk past him. Unthinkingly he grabbed her wrist.

"Where're you going?" he asked, wondering WHY he sounded apologetic

"I'm…I'm going home…" she answered eventually, "didn't know anyone else would be here…I'm…gonna go now…" and tried to pull herself out of his grip, without success since his hand didn't seem to want to let go.

The next words out of his mouth surprised the both of them, but him most of all.

"Come for a walk with me."

Ack! That WASN'T what he'd meant to say! That wasn't what he'd meant to say at all!

Then again…a walk would probably give him a chance to talk to her about why they couldn't be anything more than friends…if that.

Yes, a walk to break this friendship off and then he could go back to training without distractions.

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"A…walk? Now?" Theresa asked, confused. He'd caught her talking to her mum's headstone and he wanted to go for a walk?

"Yes, now," he nodded, then added, almost as an after thought, "please?"

She thought for a few moments…a walk was good. A walk could be a good way to end this…friendship.

Yeah, she'd tell him straight that she didn't want to see him anymore and then she could get her life back to normal.

No distractions.

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_**Author's note:**__ Stubborn, aren't they? Well stick around because as if I'm going to let them end it there before they've even tried._

_Also, for anyone who's picky (and-or) interested: Theresa's mum died of breast cancer._

_Music references: slightly modified the opening of the song 'if you were gay' from Avenue Q for Micky and Theresa's conversation at the start of the chapter. Title is from a song of the same name by The White Stripes and the song flashback is 'Never-ending Story' by Within Temptation._


	9. Don't Look Back in Anger

_**Author's Note:**__ Enjoy your lemon-tinted cupcake during this chapter. Also want to thank my two reviewers for the support__**. LucretiaDecoy**__ and __**Snow-Fighter88**__. Thanks a lot guys, you totally rock. This chapter is for you for being so cool about waiting. (highfives)_

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OK, they'd been walking for a little while, actually ended up in the park where he'd saved her dog.

Today was surprisingly quiet...or maybe not so surprisingly since it was overcast and would be getting dark soon. The lights along the path were already light, possibly to make the path easier to see but more likely to make it harder for people to get mugged if they went for a walk at this time of night, making the shadows from the dead rose bushes that lined the path seem darker and longer, more menacing somehow. Not that any mugger would be stupid enough to try and rob Theresa whilst she was in Kevin's company.

Kevin was still trying to find the right way to word his wanting to break off this friendship.

Normally he had no problem getting rid of people who annoyed him, it was easy. A cutting remark and an arrogant 'I don't give a damn' toss of his head, they usually went away hurt, far away in most cases, on the other side of the stadium or city or, once, the other side of the country, and didn't bother him ever again. The only problem was that, if he was completely honest with himself (and he was trying exceedingly hard NOT to be completely honest with himself) Theresa didn't annoy him and the last few times they'd hung out together, he'd been the one to actively seek her out. This was a very new thing…He NEEDED to end it and end it soon!

But just as he opened his mouth to speak, Theresa spoke first, whilst idly snapping a hard, dried out thorn from one of the rose bushes and twirling it between her fingers without pricking herself.

"Look, Kevin…" she said slowly, "I'm going to be blunt here. You seem really nice and I like you and everything but…I don't think we should hang out anymore."

"Wait," He stopped walking abruptly, trying to work out what had just happened here, "YOU are saying that you don't want to be friends with ME?"

She nodded, unsmiling. She wasn't even looking at him! That was…That…That hurt, actually. It shouldn't have but it did!

"And WHAT is wrong with being friends with me?" he demanded

"Nothing, you're…you're fine, you're a nice bloke but I…I just don't want to be friends with you. You distract me."

HE distracted HER?!

That was…bloody insulting! HE was supposed to be the one telling HER this! NOT the other way around! How DARE she steal his words away and look so damned cute and vulnerable that most him just wanted to hug her and tell her it was all right.

……

Then again, wasn't this what he wanted? Did it matter how this…acquaintance ended as long as it did end? Apparently it'd at least be an amicable parting of ways. No hard feelings and after that no distractions and they could both get on with their lives.

"Alright," he nodded, "we'll finish this walk, and I'll even make sure you get home safely. And THEN we'll go our separate ways. Agreed?"

"Agreed," and she held out her hand to shake on it…as an after thought she climbed up onto one of the short walls along the path in front of the rose bushes to be closer to his own height, then held out her hand again.

Neither one of them could've said how they ended up with his hands on her waist and her arms around his neck, staring at each other in complete shock but not letting go.

"Let go of me!"

"YOU let go of ME!"

They stopped and silence passed between them, stretching out longer every second, neither of them moved even an inch.

"We shouldn't be doing this…" Theresa said, eventually "This is completely the opposite of what we were going to do…"

"You're right, we shouldn't…we should let go, finish this walk and go our separate ways, like we planned."

"Count of three?"

He nodded and they counted together "One…Two…Three…"

…

But they still didn't let go and continued to stare at each other

"Unless…you want to kiss me first?" Theresa ventured quietly, after a few more seconds of silence.

More silence followed as he tried to get his brain into gear…before his subconscious, sick of all the messing around, took control of his mouth and tongue.

"Yes I do, thank you very much"

It was the work of a second for him to tug his mask up far enough to expose his mouth, less for them to latch onto each other. What they both lacked in experience, it seemed they made up for in enthusiasm.

This kiss…damn, it was hot, it was sweet…totally wrong but right now he couldn't bring himself to care. If they were going to go their separate ways anyway why the hell not allow himself this one time?

Why did the fact that'd it'd only be one time make a weight fall on his chest?

OK…maybe he'd keep this friendship for a little longer…

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The hell did she think she was doing? Theresa wondered, kissing Kevin hadn't even been on her mind…at the time anyway. She knew hardly anything about him, had known him for just under 3 months and now she was KISSING him?!

Where had he learnt to kiss like this anyway? No, forget it, she didn't want to know; they were going their separate ways after this, right?

Yeah, this was a 'goodbye' kiss. They'd stop in a minute, realise that a kiss was just a kiss and THEN they'd finish this walk, he'd take her home and they'd never see each other again except by accident.

Good plan

She LIKED that plan

Or she'd thought she did…right now she liked this plan better…

…Bloody hell, he was a good kisser!

Not that she had any prior experience to compare it to at all

As first kisses went though…

Bloody hell, she'd finally cracked and gone totally insane, maybe that was what this dizzy feeling was?

Or was that the lack of oxygen?

Who cared?

She didn't care that she'd gone crackers as long as he kept kissing her.

Maybe…they could stay friends a little longer?

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An hour, or maybe only a few minutes later, it was hard to tell without a clock or a watch, they finally parted, both panting lightly for breath.

Silence passed between them again, this time it was a more contemplative silence than an expectant or tense one.

"Look," they said together, "Maybe we can…" they stopped, they stared at each other before… "You go first," they both said and pointed at each other at exactly the same time.

"Look, maybe we can…" Theresa started

"…still be friends." Kevin completed

"Just so we can say that…"

"…We gave it a fair try?"

"Deal," they both agreed with a nod and smiled slightly shyly at each other…

Life is full of 'if only's'. For example, if only they'd started walking a little earlier rather than smile at each other a little longer and wait for Theresa to slip Kevin's mask back into place.

If only they'd turned and walked the other way…

If only Kevin had bothered to keep up to date with the world tour of wrestling dates…

But by then it was too late and someone suddenly called: "Is that…Kevin? Hey! It is! Kevin Mask! HEEEEY!"

Kevin winced and, with inevitability, turned to look, though every nerve in his body told him to bolt. Just pick up Theresa and bolt her home...but he remained rooted where he was.

There on the path, with his gang of merry idiots…was Mantaro Muscle, grinning and waving stupidly.

Kevin wished there was a hole for him to crawl into and die.

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_**Author's Note:**__ dun Dun __**DUN**__! (dramatic reverb!) Oh noes! The New Generation is in England! And we ALL know that Kid Muscle can't keep his goddamned mouth shut. (hits him with a big stick)_

_Musical references: well, the title is from an song by Oasis, 'a kiss is just a kiss' from Casablanca (I think) and there's a vague reference to 'every rose has a thorn'_


	10. As the World Falls Down

_**Author's note:**__ I'm going to be handing out baseball bats for anyone who wants to beat up Kid Muscle during this chapter._

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Why now? Kevin thought, why did this group of idiots have to show up RIGHT FUCKING NOW?!

"Hey, you got a girlfriend?!" Kid exclaimed, "how come you didn't bring her to Japan with you? Huh? She's pretty!" he suddenly stuck his face, nose to pig-nose with Theresa, apparently to get a better look at her.

Theresa leaned away from him as far as she could without falling backwards into the rose bushes, obviously disliking Mantaro invading her personal space. Kevin unthinkingly wrapped an arm securely around her waist to keep her from falling, and he could practically HEAR her thinking: _"Who is this weirdo and why is he hitting on me?"_

"Uh, why would he have taken me to Japan?" she asked in a curious voice, taking a few steps sideways along the wall she was standing on to get away from Mantaro and breaking Kevin's grip on her waist.

Please don't…Kevin prayed…please don't say what I think you're going to say…

Kid Muscle, lacking any ESP skills (or even basic social skills) at all continued unperturbed:

"To watch him fight, of course! He's one of the top wrestlers in the Intergalactic Wrestling Federation. Not as cool as me, obviously," he gave her (what he obviously thought was) a charming smile as he followed her, never one to let a pretty girl out of his sight, despite his frequent declarations of love for Roxanne, "You should'va seen his last match! That guy was huge! I nearly wet myself when he dug his claws into Kevin's back!"

"You're…part of that…blood sport?" Theresa said quietly, looking up at Kevin

"Uh, duh!" Kid Muscle spoke up, "weren't you listening to me?"

Right now, all Kevin wanted to strangulate the pig-faced idiot for his big mouth as he kept going on about the match, ignoring Theresa's face and body language, that showed she wanted to be as far away from Mantaro as possible, as he got caught up in telling her all about how the match had gone and how cool it'd all been.

"Y'know, I'm really surprised you didn't bring her," Mantaro finished, finally, "I'd have thought you'd want her cheering for you at your match, like my Roxanne does for me…" he turned back to Theresa, "bet you feel really honoured huh?"

"H-honoured?"

"Well yeah, on account of him picking you as a girlfriend?" the prince of Muscle Planet continued, heedless of his more astute friends who were trying to get a word in edgeways to make him shut up, "You know how many fangirls this guy has to choose from? Nearly as many as me! If he wanted he could have a different girlfriend every day of the week!"

"Is that…?" "Theresa said in a small voice, looking at Kevin, she didn't finish that sentence, instead she said, in that same small, quiet voice: "I'm going home now, goodbye," and before anyone could stop her, bolted away from Kevin and the New Generation, vanishing down the path, into the shadows and out of sight.

Kevin just stared after her, stunned.

Never in his life had anyone referred to what he did as a 'blood sport', and the WAY she'd said it made it sound as if he was going out and hurting random people on the street…Dear sweet God, her eyes when Kid Muscle had called her a fangirl…even in shock and pain they were pretty, it took every piece of will power he possessed not to bolt right after her, kiss her again and apologise for lying to her, to explain why and that she was special.

Instead he turned his back to the New Generation and walked back the way he'd come, ignoring Mantaro calling him like an idiot, apparently not too many people ignored him for long.

Kevin, however, didn't care for the prince and his friends…right now; he cared about finding Theresa without seeming desperate or overly emotional.

He'd walk around the other way and find her at her house, maybe…maybe try to explain?

………No, forget it.

The friendship had ended, and that was just fine with him

Now he could go back to training without distractions.

He didn't need friends

He didn't need anyone.

Right?

Right!

What the hell had he'd been thinking?! She wasn't special at all…not at all…

…He just wished he could forget about those eyes and that kiss…if he could do that, he might actually be able to focus.

-------------------------

Mantaro, aka Kid, Muscle soon found himself on the receiving end of various slaps from his friends and manager.

"Ouch! What was that for?!"

"For being an idiot!" everyone chorused.

"You probably hurt her feelings carrying on about how Kevin 'could have a different girlfriend every day of the week'" Wally said, ever the soft hearted one.

"But it's true! He COULD!"

"It still ain't polite ta say that ta th' lady's face, Kid" Terry told him, "a girl don't like ta be told that she should be honoured that a guy chose her."

"I dunno...Didja see the way she reacted to hearin' Kevin was a wrestler?" Meat spoke up thoughtfully, "It was like she had no idea who he was"

Everyone spoke in turn, rather like watching a Mexican Wave but with words

"Why wouldn't she know who he was?"

"This is London and he's a national icon…"

"Maybe she's sheltered?"

"That must be it…"

"So sheltered that she ain't never hearda wrestlin'?"

"Hey! I'll bet she grew up in a nunnery or something like that! Those nuns aren't big on blood sports, right?"

"Or maybe one of those extremely religious families that don't watch TV…"

The debate went on, none of them hitting the mark.

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Micky wasn't terribly surprised when he came upstairs and found a girl on his bed, this sort of thing happened on a regular basis since he was 5 years old.

"Did I leave my window open again?" He asked

Theresa nodded mutely, "You mind?"

"Have I ever?"

He sat down next to her, "What's wrong? Didn't you go and visit your mum?"

"Yes…but…"

"But…he was there and…we were going to call off being friends…but…"

"But…?"

"We kissed…"

OK, THAT was new!

"Oh my god! Your first kiss?! " He hugged her ecstatically, (really it was amazing that Theresa had female friends, because Micky was more effeminate than the lot of them at times) "Where? When?" he demanded "How?!"

"Not the point…" Theresa started to cry, not dramatically like her female friends would have, but quietly, tears simply forming then running down her cheeks, that was something Micky'd always found slightly strange about her, even when they were small, Theresa didn't sob, she just cried.

"What's wrong? I'd have thought your first kiss would've made you happy, not made you cry"

It took another 10 minutes, with Theresa pausing to wipe her eyes now and then, but he got the whole story and it made him wince. She ended with saying that it was over now and she didn't care. It was better this way, right? She…she really didn't have time for blokes anyway…right? It was much better this way because now she could focus on her music again and he…he could go back to his wrestling and his fangirls and they could both get on with their lives…just like they'd agreed…before they'd…

Micky just looked at her for a while and then said simply: "Is there a hole in your heart or am I mistaken?"

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_**Author's Note:**__ I just want to hug both of them right now…that or shove them into a room together until they talked to each other and sorted everything out._

_**Muscial references:**__ couldn't get many into this since I was going for drama. But the title is by David Bowie (song of the same name) and Micky's last line is the first line of a song called "I am a Pirate, You are a Princess" by PlayRadioPlay!_


	11. How Many Times?

_**Author's Note:**__ here we are, chapter 11, at last. Theresa has such sneaky friends…_

_Theresa: What do you mean? What're they going to do?_

_Author: (innocent whistling)_

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"Come oooooon," Micky pouted at Theresa as they walked towards the underground station to go home at the end of the school week, "it's my birthday. And you promised you'd do whatever I wanted on my birthday."

"You're going to hold me to a promise I made when we were 10?" his friend asked, selecting a packet of sugar-free mints from the newsstand inside the station and handing over the money for it, tucking the packet into the pocket of her blue fleece jacket before putting her purse back into her school bag.

"You've held it for the last 7 years, what's 1 more?" he pointed out, paying for a small bar of white crispy chocolate from the same stand.

"Micky I REALLY don't want to" she said, feeding her train ticket into the barrier machine and swiping it back as the plastic doors opened, stepping through them quickly before they rattled shut again.

"It'll do you good to get out, it's been, what, 2 weeks since you left the house for something other than school, rehearsal or walking the dog?" he said, standing sideways on the moving stairs so that he could look at her comfortably and still keep an eye on when they got to the bottom.

"Week and a half…" she replied and pretended to study a poster for 'Spam-a-lot' that was stuck to the board at the bottom of the escalator

"My point exactly," he threw an arm around her shoulders, enthusiastically, "you'll enjoy yourself, I know you will…there'll be music," he wheedled gently.

"Alright, fine, where are we going?" Theresa asked, letting him lead her onto the platform

"It's a surprise."

"It's _**your**_ birthday but you're surprising _**me**_?" she called, over the sound of the tube train pulling up, even though Micky was less than a foot away from her, the noise was a few decimals below deafening.

"Got it." Micky called back with a nod then sighed with relief as the train finished pulling up and the doors opened.

"Is it going to be something I'll hate?" Theresa asked as they waited for people to dismount the train before getting in themselves.

"I don't think you'll hate it," he replied enigmatically as he grabbed a hold of the handrail.

"You know, Gramps said the same thing about 'The Sound of Music'," Theresa said, copying him, standing with her heels slightly off the floor as she did so, "he was dead wrong."

"Don't blame you, everyone knows that 'Sound of Music' is part of a secret government plot intended to rot our brains and turn us into happy, cheery idiots who do nothing but sing and dance every time we do something minor."

"Like me still being 17 and you turning 18 tomorrow?"

"Exactly," he grinned and then sang gently at her: "I am 17 going on 18, I'll take care of you,"

"Carry on like that and I'm throwing your present into the rubbish when I get home," Theresa warned, moving slightly so a woman with a pushchair could reach the door, "if you're going to sing show tunes at me at least make it a musical I actually like"

"A musical you like…" he thought about that for awhile and was still thinking when they got off at their stop.

"Thought of one yet?" she asked, as they reached the top of her street

"No, not one that fits," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets

"Leave it then," she shrugged, digging in her bag for her house keys, they could already hear Banksy barking warningly on the other side of the door, "you want a drink?"

"Nah, got to get home and do this homework," he told her ruffling her pale blonde hair, she still hadn't dyed it yet, "see you online later though, OK?"

"Yeah, OK," she nodded, pausing with the key in the lock, "what time is this thing tomorrow?"

"10am the doors open, event at 11am, see you at 9.30, OK?"

"Fine," she sighed.

"Wear something nice," he advised

"You don't like the way I dress?"

"The way you dress is fine, just dress smart casual,"

"The things I do for you, Micky Dolenz, sometimes I wonder why I bother."

"Because I'm your oldest friend and you wuv me?" he pulled a cute eyed anime type face at her

"That must be it," she laughed weakly, turning the key, "I'll see you…Banksy, shut up!" And she vanished inside.

Micky sighed. He hoped this plan of Devloek's would work, he really did. Idly he pulled out the tickets to the IWF's Wrestling World Tour London match she'd managed to obtain for him…how she'd managed it he didn't really want to know, Devloek wasn't someone you asked those sorts of questions of.

Still, if it meant that Theresa would smile properly again…

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"Why do I have to be blindfolded?"

"Because it's a SURPRISE!"

"I can hear a lot of people…are we at a football match?"

"Nope, you'll never guess where we are, never." He guided her to the row where their seats were, "go forward"

"OUCH!" she hit her foot, stumbled slightly then fell down to one knee.

"Oops, sorry," Micky helped her back up to her feet "mind the step?"

"Belated, but thank you"

"Here,sit down...turn a little bit to the left, chair seat is down already"

"Micky…WHERE are we?"

"Just sit down, OK?" he soothed, "You'll find out in 10 minutes"

"10 minutes?" She tilted her head in the direction his voice was coming from, Micky still hadn't removed her blindfold.

"It's when the match starts,"

"You DID take me to the football! You sod!"

"It's NOT a football match, Tezza. Just sit down and remember you PROMISED you'd stay for the whole thing, 'cos it's my birthday..."

"I know, I _know_," she grouched slightly, slumping down in her seat, crossing her arms with a sigh, she wished Micky could see her roll her eyes, but she rolled them anyway, because it made her feel better.

Just then the music started and the crowded started screaming and cheering, Theresa covered her ears against it.

"Is...is that 'The Final Count Down' they're playing?" she asked

"Yes…"

"WHERE ARE WE?!"

Before he could speak the announcers spoke for him: "Welcome fight fans to the IWF World Tour of Wrestling. We're here in London to watch what promises to be an epic match between two national wrestlers: Bulldog and Kevin Mask,"

Micky whipped the blindfold off her eyes just as Kevin entered the stadium.

"You…bastard." She whispered to Micky, taking in where they were seated: right in the front row where they were sure to be spotted…not that she cared. She didn't care…at all.

"Just enjoy the show," Micky advised back, looking exceedingly pleased with himself and not at all bothered by her calling him a bastard, "You promised you'd stay with me…it's my birthday"

Theresa covered her face with one hand… She'd been trying so hard to forget about Kevin, throwing herself into composing, her schoolwork, Verleide's rehearsals so that she wouldn't think about him, so that'd she be so exhausted she wouldn't dream or remember kissing him…

Right now she would've killed to be back at home.

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Kevin squared his shoulders as he heard the music start up and entered the stadium, walking towards the wrestling ring with the indifference he usually had.

He had no doubt that he could beat his opponent; he'd trained hard the last week, probably harder than he'd trained in his life…anything so he wouldn't think about the last time he'd seen Theresa.

He managed quite well during the day. Training was a great thing to focus on; he could fill his head with nothing but improving techniques, kicks, punches, moves that required a lot of skill and precise timing to work correctly.

At night though…night was different, even though he exhausted himself with training from sunrise to sunset, his mind kept replaying their kiss in the park

Always, ALWAYS, ending with that hurt look in her eyes before she bolted away from him.

………

He didn't care!

He just had to keep telling himself that and sooner or later it'd be true. The subconscious worked that way.

He was determinedly not thinking about her as he climbed up into the ring and took a customary look around at the crowd.

There were plenty of signs bearing his name, some of them had hearts on them, and others were encouraging him to 'Put the Bulldog to Sleep' or other things as lacking in wit to that nature

It was only when his gaze came to the front row to his left that he saw something, some_one_, that made his eyes widen.

Theresa…

Theresa was in the front row!

Of all the hypocritical-!

But then he looked again, as the referee went through the rules of the match, the few rules that were ever in an IWF match anyway.

She looked…good, actually, her hair was still dye-free, showing her natural pale almost silvery, blonde colour and she was wearing that tie-dyed blouse from a few weeks ago. But most of all, she looked as tired as he felt.

His thoughts broke off just as the bell rang to announce the start of the match.

………

The whole thing was a blur to him until the bell rang again to signal that the match was over and that Kevin was victorious.

He remembered crowd cheering wildly and the paramedics taking his opponent out of the ring to transport him to the hospital.

What paled all that and made this victory hollow was that when he looked again at the front row, Theresa was gone and he realised that what he wanted, right now, right this second, was the get really, REALLY drunk.

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_**Author's Note:**__ Is alcohol really going to make you feel any better, Kevvy? 'cos I don't think it will_

_Also I know that there used to be a wrestler in the WWF who went by the nickname 'British Bulldog', obviously I couldn't use his name because I have no money to pay for royalties._

_Devloek belongs to mah friend xKiaxExPyrosx (BIG hugs)_

_**Musical references:**__ 'How Many Times?' is a song by Insane Clown Posse (I love those guys), The Sound of Music (shudders) and 'The Final Countdown' by Europe._


	12. Comfortably Numb

_**Author's Note:**__ Kevvy, Kevvy, Kevvy, your REALLY think alcohol is going to solve your problems? Well…in a way I suppose it did…_

* * *

_He remembered drinking…what exactly he drank he didn't remember…it was all the same when you drank it through a straw…_

…_People cheering him and a few brave ones clapping him on the shoulder and congratulating him…_

…_a few giggling, annoying women propositioned him, telling him how great they thought he was, and how great the fight had been…he turned them down…_

_He remembered saying something about heading somewhere else…_

_He remembered leaning on something cold and hard and then a bright light that suddenly blinded him…_

_of something warm and familiar in his arms…and a voice that he liked the sound of…_

…_That was where it all went black…_

…_Where it all became comfortably numb._

There was white above him when he opened his eyes, bright, almost blindingly bright, white above him and something warm and soft under his back…that was unusual…He tried to sit up but even trying to summon up the energy to do that made his head explode and his stomach heave uneasily. At least he was still dressed so that was a blessing. He hadn't done anything he'd regret…

"Oh look, it's awake."

He stood corrected…wait, he knew that voice... it belonged to…

"Theresa?"

"In the flesh,"

She came into view as he turned his head towards the voice's source, though the action made him wince as it sent another throb of pain through his head and his stomach churned with nausea.

"Wh-where am I?" he managed at last through a throat that felt like it'd been sandpapered and a mouth that tasted as if it'd been varnished.

Theresa was sitting on a chair, he noticed that she still looked tired, as if she hadn't slept and that she was wearing blue cotton shorts and an oversized black 'Jimi Hendrix' tee-shirt, though the way she hand her legs crossed kept drawing his attention to how long her legs actually were…

"You're in my bedroom, in my bed," she said, breaking into his wandering thoughts, "Also for the record, you're a hell of a weight to lug upstairs, Kevin, think I pulled a muscle on the way up here,"

"You dragged me up here?"

"Well, you got up here half on your own steam but I had to get you up here and tuck you in, so yes I suppose I did."

He put a hand to his face…flesh against flesh?… that wasn't…oh, he wasn't wearing…

"My mask...?"

"On the table," she nodded to where it stood, beside her reading lamp.

"...Why?"

"Because I didn't want you to choke if you were sick again"

"No, I mean…why would you...? After everything..."

"Because it's not every day that a drunken wrestler turns up on my doorstep, apologising for being a lying twit, proclaiming that he misses me, leans in apparently to give me a kiss and then turns away at the last minute to throw up on the front lawn and I wanted to keep you here so I could take a photo for posterity."

Was she serious? She couldn't be serious…could she?

"N-not really?"

"No, not really," she shook her head and pulled her knees up to her chest, "…I suppose I helped you because, despite the fact that I'm cross at you for lying to me...I…I still" this seemed to be difficult for her to say, so he waited patiently "…I still care about what happens to you. More fool me probably, but there you go, that's life and…you're my friend."

She still considered them to be friends? Really? After him lying to her and her being angry with him, they were STILL friends? Having had no experience until now with 'friends', he'd had no idea that you could be angry and still consider someone your friend

He tried to sit up but soon found himself being pushed back into a lying down position by Theresa, who apparently had lightning quick reflexes.

"You stay exactly where you are," she instructed, with a hand on his shoulder, "I'm going to get you something to eat and drink"

"Not hungry" he muttered turning his face into the pillow, the thought of eating anything, and the fact that Theresa'd seen him at his worst, made him feel ill again.

"I didn't ask if you were hungry. I said I was going to get you something to eat and drink."

Funny, he mused once he was alone; the few dreams he'd had about being in Theresa's bed hadn't involved being horribly hungover with a pounding headache and a washing machine on spin cycle where his stomach should be.

He must have gone back to sleep at some point because the next time he opened his eyes, it was to find Theresa coming back through the door with a plate in one hand and a mug in the other. She put the plate down on her desk and the mug on the bedside table along with his mask and her lamp.

"Just call me angel of the morning," she said with a small smile and then took both his hands before he could protest.

He let her pull him into a sitting position without fuss; besides, it meant he could get a better look at what she'd made.

Scrambled eggs on toast…his stomach gurgled slightly in hunger then churned unpleasantly as he watched her cut up the eggs and toast then spear a piece, holding it out towards his mouth. "Open up," she told him.

"You don't trust me to feed myself?"

"Right now I wouldn't trust you to hold a pencil."

"But…"

"This isn't a democracy, Kevin. Right now, this is a dictatorship, you obviously aren't in a condition to decide anything for yourself so I'm doing it for you, now open up before I hold your nose shut."

The idea that her bedroom was a dictatorship made him snort a laugh out, Theresa didn't seem like the dictator sort to him, but he opened his mouth obediently and was actually surprised when the food made the sick feeling in his stomach ease off.

It was only when the plate was empty that she let him drink the sweet, sugary tea by himself. When that was gone, she moved the mug to her desk along with the empty plate.

"You…were at my match yesterday…" he managed, once the silence started to irritate him, besides, the need to know was killing him, or maybe that was the hangover? Either way, he wanted to know.

"Yeah, I was" she nodded

"Why? You told me you think it's a blood sport."

"I do think it's a blood sport."

"Then why…?"

"It was my friend Micky's birthday yesterday, I promised him I'd do whatever he wanted. Apparently taking me to your match was part of a hopeful plot to get us to talk to each other once the match was over…"

"But you left…why?"

"Needed the toilet," she rubbed the back of her head, "then remebered that Micky still had my ticket in his pocket so I couldn't get back in, when Micky finally got out of there he dragged me around to the exits but apparently you'd already left before the fangirls could gather so that plan kind of went out of the window"

"Oh…"

"I still think it's a blood sport…" she added shyly, "but…you did pretty good up there."

"……thanks…"

What happened next surprised the hell out of him.

"Budge up, please" she said, sitting down on the side of the bed.

"I beg your pardon?!" What was she doing?! She wasn't going to sleep with him on her bed…was she?

"I was up all night making sure you didn't vomit and choke on it, I'm tired, you're tired, you're on my bed, in no condition to move to the spare room by yourself, I'm not going to move you and I'm NOT letting you kick me out of my bed when it's big enough for two," she lay down and unabashedly curled up against his side, "Goodnight."

"I thought…you were cross with me?"

"I am, I'm just more tired than I am cross," she yawned and closed her eyes, her breathing becoming deep and even in a matter of minutes.

Yeah, go to sleep, he thought watching her and the ready rise and fall of her chest, easier said than done. How in the HELL was he supposed to sleep again when she was THAT close to him wearing only her pyjamas?

…a few minutes of lying there staring at the ceiling, which made his headache worse, convinced him to close his eyes…just for a few minutes, he decided, once he was absolutely convinced that she was asleep he'd get up, put his mask back on and leave.

Yes, that was what he'd do.

Ignore the warmth curled up at his side; ignore the remaining nausea and the headache…leave in a few minutes.

…5 minutes later he was sound asleep once more

10 more minutes later, he was sound asleep with Theresa nestled in his arms.

* * *

An hour and a half later, James Chappen stood in the doorway of his granddaughter's room. This wasn't a sight he ever thought he'd see.

It didn't concern him overly, partly because he was an open-minded man, partly because Theresa had never given him a reason not to trust her, but mostly because he was astute enough to notice that, even though Theresa was in his arms, the young man was _under_ the covers whilst she was _on top_ of them.

Besides, he was relieved that Theresa was actually sleeping for the first time in almost two weeks.

Though a pacifist, he silently vowed that if that boy broke his granddaughter's heart again, he would break his arm. He wouldn't stand by and see the last of his girls get her heart trodden on.

That decided he headed downstairs, grabbed his jacket from a hook and picked up Banksy's leash from the hall cupboard, the dog appeared as if by magic from the kitchen.

It was a nice day out, cold but sunny…it would be good days to visit his Harmony, he decided, catch her up on all the news of the last few weeks.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Cuteness, yes? Clearing some of the air between them and explaining exactly WHY Theresa wasn't there at the end of the match when she promised Micky she'd stay for the whole thing. And wow, Theresa's bold when she's exhausted from staying up looking after him all night and hasn't slept properly for a fortnight, isn't she?_

_**Musical References:**__ Comfortably Numb by Pink Floyd, Angel of the Morning by Bonnie Tyler and very vaguely 'All By Myself' by Feeder_


	13. Pretty Handsome Awkward

_**Author's Note:**__ OK 2 things: first, I'm sorry this took so long, college came first, I had a dissertation to write. _

_Secondly: Didn't think it was going to be THAT easy for them, did you? Come on, just because she let him sleep next to her doesn't mean that all is forgiven and resolved…_

_Though if you look at it in a certain way, there's a hint of lemon in here._

_**Kevin:**__ There are lemons in here?_

_**Author:**__ Go back to bed. You're not in this bit._

_Also, want to thank my reviewers, __**Cranberries, **__**Snow-Fighter88**__ & __**LucretiaDecoy**__ for all the encouragement so far._

_And now, enough of my blabbing on, here's what you're all here for…_

* * *

When Kevin opened his eyes again the first thing he noticed was that his headache was gone. He still felt a little sick but it was nothing like the pounding headache and churning nausea from earlier.

The second thing he noticed was that instead of bright white ceiling, he was staring at pale blond, slightly mussed, hair…

His brain, which was still slightly slow on the uptake from the beating the alcohol had given it, noted that said hair smelt really, really good and clean and that it was attached to a warm body that was currently nestled cosily in his arms and pressed up against his chest…

Before adding quickly that said body was female…very VERY female…

That was nice…

That was VERY nice…

He tightened his hold slightly

…and said female body had _**name**_, his brain added belatedly.

Shit! He was holding Theresa as if she were a large, warm stuffed animal and she was still cross with him!

She was going to kill him!

That realisation was enough to make him jerk and fall out of bed with a loud thud

"OW!" he yelped, as he hit the back of his head on the corner of the bedside table, making both his mask and the reading lamp shake, rattle and roll slightly.

"You OK?" a voice asked in concern.

He looked up; Theresa was kneeling on the bed looking at him, apparently instantly alerted by the loss of his body heat, not to mention his loud cry of pain

But she didn't seem cross now…

"I…You…We…" managed, not too sure what exactly he was trying to say.

"Us?" she suggested, rubbing her left eye and shifting her legs so that she was sitting on the side of her mattress.

"Pardon?"…Wow, this was a good view, GOOD view of her legs…he quickly pushed those thoughts away…_friends, he reminded himself, just friends_…

"You were throwing pronouns around, I felt left out" she shrugged, "are you hurt?"

"I don't think so," he replied, checking, no blood, no bump, "No, I'm fine."

"Good…you sleep OK?" she asked, looking away and awkwardly running her fingers through her hair.

"…Fine," he told her, watching the movement, almost fascinated, "Why do you dye your hair?"

GOD! That was inane! The alcohol must not be completely out of his system yet…making him loose tongued.

"What?" she turned her head to look at him and gently lowered her hand from her hair, looking slightly embarrassed. It seemed that now that she'd slept she realised how awkward it was for them both to be in the same room…not to mention the taboo of sleeping in the same bed.

"Nothing, forget I said anything," he replied quickly, looking away

"OK…" Theresa chewed her bottom lip gently for a few minutes, "Um…Are you going to lie on my floor all day?"

He shook his head and carefully stood up. The room didn't spin and he didn't feel the need to be ill, his head DID feel like it'd been stuffed full of cotton but otherwise he was fine.

Was he the ONLY one who could feel the atmosphere in the room? He wondered, He couldn't be, not from the way that Theresa was acting. Not knowing what else to do, he sat down on the bed beside her, making a dent in the mattress which in turn made Theresa slide closer to him.

"Oh!"

"I'm sorry!"

They stared at each other…this was an awful lot like déjà vu

So close…she was so close now…and blushing so prettily…so close that he could…some part of his still hungover brain was screaming that he shouldn't be thinking this. He should be maintaining his distance both physically and mentally…they'd agreed to just be friends…But he could see her swallow nervously and watched her lips part slightly…

He could…

He leaned down towards her slightly…

"I'm…I'm going to take a shower," Theresa suddenly announced, springing to her feet as quickly as if she'd been scalded.

He watched, stunned, as she grabbed a pair of jeans from a drawer and exited her room as quickly as was politely possible.

That…that was unexpected and hurt a little more than he thought it would…

It didn't matter…

So what if she didn't want him to kiss her? It just proved that she had more willpower than he did

…when had that happened?

When had he become so weak that an ordinary human had more willpower than him?

With a sigh, once he was certain she was out of earshot, he turned on the radio in the beside clock, because he had no idea of what to do now…or where Theresa had put his shoes when she'd got him into her bed.

He didn't listen to music much but right now he felt compelled…probably because of all the music paraphernalia around the room

"…_lot of people get confused and they bruise_

_Real easy when it comes to love_

_They start putting on their shoes and walking out_

_And singing "boy, I think I had enough"_

_Just because she makes you feel wrong_

_She don't mean to be mean or hurt you on purpose, boy_

_Take a tip and do yourself a little service_

_Take a mountain turn it into a mole"_

_

* * *

_

Theresa leaned against the bathroom door, her jeans and a white bath towel hugged tightly against her chest, where her heart was beating like crazy.

He'd almost…!

They'd almost…!

…again!

But she'd stopped it…she'd bolted in here…she was safe in here…

_But I __**wanted **__him to kiss me again…_

God was she fucking insane? She was fucking insane!

THIS was insane!

It shouldn't be possible for one bloke to make her this jumpy. No bloke had EVER made her jumpy and nervous or made her heart thud like this.

_Because you hadn't found the right man until now…_

There was no such thing as the right man! There were only men who were out for what they could get and men who were gay!

_What about Gramps and Gran? THEY were happily married. They were happy together right up until the end._

I can't think about this right now…I need a shower…I need to clear my head…I've just gone too long without sleep…this is some kind of mania or delusion…It's got to be…

…I don't want to be in love…

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Told you wouldn't be that easy. I'm probably dragging this out too long but I'm determined not to turn this into a simplistic love stor. To quote Shakespeare: the path of true love never did run smooth (ducks any bricks or rotten veggies that are about to be thrown at her)_

_**Musical References:**__ Pretty Handsome Awkward by The Used, "Shake, Rattle & Roll" by Billy Haley and the Comets, The Denial Twist by The White Stripes and a brief lyric from 'Me and You' by The Turtles._


	14. Human Behaviour

_**Author's Note:**__ you guys are probably getting sick of me drawing this out right? LOL. I'm sorry, but Theresa's got secrets that need to be shared first. _

_Would like to thank __**LucretiaDecoy**__ for letting me bounce my shoddy ideas off her head._

_Okiloveyoubyebye._

_**Kevin:**__ What on earth was that? You call __**that**__ an introduction to a chapter?_

_**Author:**__ you know; you're pretty fussy for a man who I've seen cast as Ultimate Muscle's equivalent of a "3 dollar holler". Now be a good boy and shut up before I forget that I like you hetero and write you a love scene with Mantaro Muscle_

_**Kevin:**__ You wouldn't DARE!_

_**Author:**__ Try me Mask-boy, I have a ton of free time AND Microsoft word installed._

_**Kevin:**__………(grouches but sits down and shuts up)_

* * *

As she held up one of her only clean shirts from her chest of drawers, a blue, brown and green patchwork vest top that'd originally been made by and belonged to her grandmother during her 'misspent youth', Theresa realised that she _really_ needed to keep up with her laundry.

With a sigh, she pulled the shirt over her head and very carefully arranged the shoulder straps a certain way, so that they concealed certain parts of her back and then stood up.

Today was Saturday, almost a week since she'd last seen Kevin (she tried not to think about him but he kept popping up in her mind every now and then…gave her some odd dreams), Gramps was at work in the garage and probably would be until midday, Micky was visiting his grandparents out of town for the weekend, Devloek was spending time with her family, her boyfriend, her son and her grandson, so had called off bad practice and Theresa had already done all of the homework her teachers had assigned for the weekend.

The prospect of spending a Saturday doing her laundry didn't really appeal to her, not right now anyway even though she REALLY needed to wash her shirts that actually had sleeves.

"What're we going to do with ourselves today, Banksy?" she asked, flopping down on the bed beside her pet, who'd been half dozing until she'd flopped down beside him, and lying down flat.

Banksy simply yawned hugely, showing off his slightly yellowed teeth and then laid his head on Theresa's stomach, contentedly closing his chocolate brown eyes.

"That's alright for you," she chuckled, gently petting his ears and neck, "but it doesn't help me much,"

The dog's only reply was a light chuffing noise, almost as if he was laughing at her, but more likely it was a pleased noise due to having his ears scratched. Theresa had no doubt that HIS plans for today involved sleeping on her bed for as long as she allowed it and possibly go for a walk at some point.

Without much else to do, and not really able to move because Banksy wouldn't move his head, she flung out an arm and hit the radio button on her digital clock, just in time to catch the end of the radio station's jingle.

"…OooOOOOooooooOOOOOKay folks! Let's get this show on the road!…_isn't it good to know it's Capitol Radio?_…Oops!……_BBC Radio twooooooooo_…Yes, ladies and gentlemen, this Cuddly Ken and I've…I've joined the BBC!"

"No way!" Theresa sat bolt upright, (seriously surprising Banksy in the process) wondering if she was imagining this.

Kenny Everett was back on national radio?

An actual radio station that didn't involve a lot of tuning just to end up with a ton of static breaking through all of the music and the commentary?

Really?

"Yes folks," the DJ cooed flirtatiously, as if answering Theresa's thoughts, "from this Saturday on, we bring you a feast of heavenly delights: All the great tunes of the world, contests with soul wrenching prizes, classical items that'll turn your brain into crème de menthe…_and your liver and onions into a side street…But mostly we'll have records_!"

As the first song of the show started, Theresa smiled, suddenly a morning of washing her clothes didn't seem too bad…not with a Saturday radio show that was actually entertaining to listen to. (She'd always liked radio more than television…she really didn't watch much television aside from the news and some music channels)

So that decided, she switched off the clock radio, apologised to Banksy for waking him up and headed downstairs to the kitchen with renewed vigour.

With the radio on and 'Cuddly Ken' for company, sorting out her shirts from the washing basket, whilst still tedious, wasn't so bad at all, at least she could sing along and sort to a type of rhythm.

Music always made her feel energised, and a DJ with a much passion for it as she had was even better. Her mum had been the same, her grandmother too.

Oh well…this musing wasn't getting the washing done…a quick look out of the window told her that she probably shouldn't risk putting anything on the line in the back garden…

"Would you like a little weather?" the DJ asked, showing off amazingly good timing, "Yes, so would I…_(thunderclap)_…and that's about the sound of it for this weekend, I'm afraid. Lot's of rain and cloud around Britain…so if you're going outside, take an umbrella. Most depressing, so we won't dwell on it…"

When she finally had a load of shirts on the go in the washing machine (with non-biological powder and eco-friendly conditioner – be more nature-like, man!) she stood, stretched and grabbed the kettle. She was thirsty and wanted a cup of green tea and Echinacea.

As if on cue, a knock came on the door just as she put the kettle down on the lit stove.

Banksy got there first, bolting from Theresa's bedroom to bark a warning at whoever had dared knock on their door.

"Banksy, shush," she scolded, reaching for the twist lock to open it, "sit down,"

He did so, poised to start barking again and, possibly attack, if the visitor turned out to be hostile. It'd never happened yet but you never knew.

She stopped when she saw who was on her doorstep and her polite greeting of 'can I help you?' died before it even reached her lips whilst Banksy chose that moment to pounce, barking excitedly. He knew this visitor! It was that nice man that had saved him from the lorry that time, who patted his head whenever he saw him and sometimes came by.

Kevin…

"Are you tuned in to when I've just put the kettle on?" she asked, a lot more calmly than she felt, her heart was thumping so hard against her ribcage that she was surprised it wasn't audible.

"No, it's just good guess work and happening to be on your street," he replied, gently pushing an enthusiastic Banksy off himself.

"C…" she swallowed, her throat suddenly drier than it had been a few seconds ago, "come in…" stepping aside to let him in…then remembered what shirt she was wearing and pressed herself up against the wall.

If he thought it was strange, he didn't comment, something she thanked god, any god, for. Just to be safe, she added a quick prayer to whichever deity was listening.

_Please don't let him see my back! He'll think I'm a freak!_

She didn't think about why she was worried about that…

"OK, friendy-poos!" Kenny Everett trilled from the radio, cutting across her thoughts and reminding her that she still had to shut the front door, "now it's time for an oldie but a goodie…a 10cc's shot of music!"

"_I'm not in love, so don't forget it_

_It's just a silly phase I'm going through…"_

_

* * *

_

Theresa was acting oddly…well, oddly from what he knew of her, which wasn't much, he admitted, but still oddly.

He couldn't see a reason for her to be quite so nervy (no, he wasn't being honest with himself right now) so decided it was probably nothing.

So he sat at the kitchen table, making, or trying to, friendly chatter with her as they waited for the kettle to boil and Theresa once again gathered up the loose leaves to make the tea. He wasn't very good at it, but she didn't seem to notice. He was also, on a certain level wondering why she was wearing a summer shirt when it was almost December and freezing outside…not that he had many complaints about it…

Then Theresa turned her back to him to reach for the whistling appliance, and, as she did, her shirt shifted and his jaw dropped in shock. It looked like someone had slashed her back twice, leaving two neat but long and angry looking scars that started just below her shoulders and ended just below her shoulder blades

"Good god!" he exclaimed loudly before he could stop himself, "What on earth happened to your back?!"

Then he saw her stiffen and pause just before pouring the water into the teapot.

O-K, he tried to calm himself because it was obviously upsetting her, it seemed he'd accidentally hit a raw nerve…that appeared to be all he did with her, but he STILL kept coming back here…probably said something about his mental state…

"They're my birthmarks," she said eventually, resuming her task of pouring boiling water on the tealeaves.

"I'm…sorry," was all he could think of to say and wished for some kind of distraction…some deity or other (probably the one who'd screwed up and not heard Theresa's original prayer and was now trying to make up for it) granted that wish and Banksy came trotting into the kitchen with his leash in his mouth, dropping it into Kevin's lap with a soft 'woof' and hopeful look that was accompanied by encouragingly wagging his tail.

Banksy didn't care about all this emotional tap dancing and denying that his owner and her male friend with the iron-clad clad face were doing and he certainly didn't care about 'social blunders' and faux pas. No, what Banksy cared about, right now, was the fact that he'd been indoors since last night and for most of this morning, so now what he really, really wanted and was making painfully clear, was to go for a walk outside in the fresh air, where there were things to chase and fetch and different scents to sniff out, to stretch his legs.

"I believe your canine companion wishes to go for a walk," he said, holding up the blue nylon leash, grateful for the distraction.

"Right…" Theresa held out her hand and took the leash from him before fastening it to Banksy's collar, "I'll…get a jacket…" she paused, seemed to think something over, then said, "would you like to come with us? It's not much of a compensation for tea…but I can make more afterwards…"

Dear lord but the girl was an enigma at times! He expected one reaction and got another. She'd had the perfect excuse to get rid of him after he'd made her uncomfortable but she'd still invited him to walk the dog with her…

"Alright."

It was a pleasant walk despite the impending promise of rain, he had to admit, Theresa seemed to relax after a few minutes, now that she had her blue fleece jacket on over the vest shirt and he hadn't mentioned her birthmarks again.

The street they were walking along was quiet, which was probably due to the fact that these were residential streets not part of the city centre. Nice enough, but Kevin couldn't quite shake the feeling that they were being watched and followed. However, Banksy didn't seem bothered so he put it down to mild paranoia.

They talked about this and that, no particular subject, though he was surprised to find out that she didn't believe in fate or pre-destination. She didn't think she was here for a particular purpose; she was just here, with only the one life to lead, so she might as well make the best of it.

"We should start heading back," Theresa said suddenly, looking up towards the sky where the clouds were getting darker "looks like it'll rain soon,"

Just as they turned to head back, Banksy stopped and looked into a shadowed alleyway to their right, bearing his teeth and growling dangerously low in warning.

"What is it boy?" Theresa asked gently, patting him between the ears, "did you spot a cat? Come on, we've got to go now" and gave a tug at his leash, but the dog refused to move

"No cats here," a voice that crackled with static said, "Only us devils…"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ dun Dun DUN! OH no! Not ANOTHER random encounter? I don't think these ones are too friendly though…Who are these self proclaimed devils? And what does this mean for our two main characters? Stay tuned! ………(waits for theme tune)………(remembers this is a fiction, not a television show)…damn._

_**Musical references**__: Just to clarify - I love Kenny Everett; that guy was a god and if he were still alive today I would DEFINITELY tune into his radio show. So, in his honour, I bring him back to life for my own twisted amusement by playing the AU card (evil cackle) Cuddly Ken lives!_

_Also, the title is from a song by Bjork and the song that plays on the radio as Theresa closes the door is 'I'm Not in Love' by 10cc_


	15. Dirty Little Secret

_**Author's Note:**__ again, I apologise for taking so long. This thing called 'Real Life' keeps coming in and hitting me over the head when I should be writing chapters for this. _

_I'm thinking of taking out a restraining order._

_**Theresa:**__ I try to take it one day at a time…but several days usually attack me at once._

_**Author:**__ What she said…anyway. This one is kind of short (ok, shorter than the rest) but I'll try and make up for in the next one, OK?_

_

* * *

_

Pumpinator and Dialbolic appeared in the alley mouth. Neither of them particularly frightened Kevin, but he could see how the lighting and general atmosphere would scare an ordinary human…especially a human that'd never seen Chojins up close before…like the one that was with him right now.

"Who are you?" Theresa asked cautiously, backing away as much as her grip on the leash that held her dog would allow. Banksy was still growling, poised to actually attack this time.

"What's this?" Pumpinator sneered, ignoring Theresa's question but casting a glance disdainful glance at her, "Got a taste for dogs all of a sudden, Kevin?"

"What're you doing here?" he replied coldly,

Before he could utter another word, the green skinned Chojin unexpectedly punched him hard in the gut, knocking all of the wind out of him and a muffled scream told Kevin that Dialbolic had managed to grab Theresa

"I'm here to show you what happens to people that betray the DMP…" they didn't get much further in whatever speech they'd planned between them, because Banksy, his leash fallen out of his owner's grip when the phone shaped wrestler had grabbed her, yapped angrily and bit Dialbolic on the leg, teeth cutting painfully through the plastic to the wiring making him scream and drop Theresa hard on the ground, who instantly backed away as far as she could (she'd never claimed to be particularly brave after all.)

"Stupid mutt!" Pumpinator, who'd been taking advantage of being able to kick a man when he was down, growled, grabbing the dog roughly; Banksy, ever loyal, growled menacingly, even though this person was big enough and strong enough to lift him by the throat. But he stopped and yelped in pain when the shoe based Chojin squeezed slightly, coming close to crushing his throat.

"Stop it!" Theresa shouted, sitting up on her knees on the ground, her eyes on the man that had her pet, "You're _**hurting**_ him! STOP!"

"You hear that Mask? Your girlfriend's more concerned about her mutt than she is about you!"

"Do us all a favour and shut up!" Kevin had regained his breath and punched Pumpinator in the face, the shock making him release his grip on the dog, who, surprisingly, landed on his feet and coughed a few times before bolting to stand in front of Theresa defensively, though apparently Dialbolic was more concerned about his chewed up wiring than terrifying a girl.

A quick glance from in her direction let Kevin see that Theresa's eyes were wide and scared, but the fear was mixed in with…pain?

It could've been the slight giddiness from the punch to the gut making him see things; but it almost looked as if her back was moving?

He didn't have time to think about it, not with two enemies against himself…didn't matter; they weren't especially tough opponents, at least, not to Kevin.

But there was a…sudden change in the texture of the air…

And then…

…There was light filling the darkness of the alley, drawing the attention of all 3 wrestlers to its source

Theresa…

Theresa was…glowing with all the brightness of a single candle in a coalmine even though tears of pain were running down her face.

A few milliseconds later there was a horribly, horribly organic noise followed by the ripping of fabric as the skin of her back and the back of her shirt and fleece jacket all ripped open to reveal…

Kevin stared…

…Dialbolic and Pumpinator stared.

Wings…

Theresa had wings!

Bright glowing white wings that were shot through with flecks of silver…that were also dripping with blood as they protruded from…

Where her birthmarks were…

Though even Theresa herself seemed surprised at them, staring at them in wide-eyed fascinated horror

"Th-this…this is…new…" she managed, sounding more than a little dazed.

But then Bansky whimpered, only registering now that most of his adrenaline had worn off, that he was hurt...and she turned her attention to the two devil Chojins, pushing herself to her feet with more grace than any feline or well-bred lady, wings fluttering angrily.

"You…You _hurt _Banksy!" she pointed at them accusingly, fixing them with a freezing glance and hell fires raged in her eyes. "…_**HOW…DARE YOU…HURT…MY BANKSY!"**_

Unthinkingly, the winged woman raised a hand above her head, light gathering there and forming into a…shape. Something they couldn't quite make out…But it didn't look good…One end looked distinctly sharp…

Kevin could hear the two DMP members thinking: we've just annoyed an angelical being that's now summoning up a weapon…we're so screwed!

And they bolted, probably for fear of vengeful, angelical wrath

"Theresa?" he took a few cautious steps towards her, she in turn looked at him and lowered her hand.

"It's…a recorder," she blinked at the glowing silver instrument in her hand, "…I didn't…know I could do this…" she looked up at him, and asked in a small but distant voice: "am I dreamin'?"

"I doubt it…"

Where was she going with this? She really didn't look well and now she was asking if she was dreaming?

"Din't think so…'f I was dreamin'…" she smiled at him, slightly impishly, "you'd be naked right now…n…this alley'd be my bedroom…"

He caught her just as she lost her balance and pitched forward. "Are you arlight? Do you…want to go to a hospital?"

He felt rather than saw her shake her head to the negative.

"I w'nna go home now" she mumbled groggily, cuddling close to his front, "You OK? Not hurt? He punched you…"

"I'm fine…thank you. Come on, you're in no condition to walk," he said, picking her up carefully and holding her as close as he dared, being mindful of her wings and shredded back

"Lift me up n I'll be your angel for life…" she said softly, resting her head against his shoulder.

* * *

James Chappen was surprised when he opened the door and found that boy who wore a blue iron mask holding his granddaughter, (whom was, by now, out cold, fast asleep) in his arms and holding Banksy's leash with a few fingers. He could see the shredded remains of the back of Theresa's favourite jacket…and the surprise vanished, just like that.

He didn't, however, waste time by saying 'what happened?' instead he simply stood aside to let them in, shut the door behind them and guided the boy to the living room.

"Put her on the sofa," James instructed in a low voice, taking the dog's leash from him and unclipping it, "on her side if you don't mind, her back'll probably be too sore for her to lie on."

"How did you-?"

"Put her down first and THEN I want to know what made her wings manifest for the first time."

* * *

_**Author's note:**__ THAT'S why it was short. I wanted to leave a cliffhanger. You'll get your explanation in the next chapter. There'll be a story of: Love! Religion! Tea! _

_And possibly Chocolate Digestive Biscuits…_

…_Damn! Now I'm hungry! (whines)_

_**Musical References:**__ chapter title from All-American Rejects and there's a line in there from a Geri Halliwell song that I've forgotten the title of (shows how memorable HER singing it, doesn't it?) and a line from 'Can I play with madness?' by Iron Maiden_


	16. Taking Tea in Dreamland

_**Author's Note:**__ Wow, this one actually got typed up pretty quickly. I also think it's one of the sweetest chapters I've written. So enjoy it, and I'm offering toothpaste to anyone who gets cavities from reading it._

_**Kevin:**__ Get on with it!_

_**Author:**__ (wonders when she stepped into a Monty Python Sketch)_

_

* * *

_

"I've actually been waiting for this to happen"," the older man said, putting the kettle on the stove. He'd long since emptied out the tea that Kevin and Theresa hadn't drunk and put Kevin in mind of an aging but clean hippie. "Well, don't stand there like a statue, sit down," he gestured to the chairs around the kitchen table.

"You knew about this?" Kevin asked, slightly surprised

"Hard not to," he nodded, "she inherited them from her grandmother's side."

"Then why was she unaware?"

"She wasn't. Not completely but first things first, tell me what happened to make her wings manifest."

So Kevin explained, about the two devil Chojins that'd shown up and how she'd been obviously scared, about Pumpinator hurting Banksy, which had made her angry and how the wings had literally burst out of her back

"Hmm," Theresa's grandfather nodded, "and did you protect her?"

"To the best of my abilities, yes."

The kettle whistled and the older man made tea in the filter pot before passing a steaming mug to Kevin and then leaning back against the work surface edge with his own.

Eventually he spoke up again

"Robin Knight's grandson protecting my granddaughter…never thought I'd see that. Ever."

Kevin stared at him…for some reason he'd expected Theresa's grandfather not to know who he was either.

"I know who you are, knew immediately after Theresa described you a few weeks ago" James Chappen laughed gently, "I protested with my late wife against one of your grandfather's matches back in the sixties before our daughter was born…and not too many people wear iron masks as everyday attire so it wasn't too hard to make that connection."

"If you knew who I was why didn't you tell her?" He could've been saved that incident in the park!

"Because I thought you'd tell her yourself" the older man replied with a nod, "no doubt you would've, if certain things hadn't happened first. A boy with a, I think Theresa described it as a pig-face, turning up and announcing it to the world."

"She told you about that…"

"She tells me everything or close enough…there's only me, her and Banksy now."

Kevin had never seen two relatives that shared that sort of closeness. He and his father may not be totally at odds anymore, but they still didn't quite see eye to eye nor were they particularly close, never had been and it appeared that they never would be.

He was slightly jealous again…very slightly but managed to cap it. They were there to talk about Theresa, not his problems.

"So, the wings?"

The older man paused, seeming to think about how to word it.

"She's part angel," he said eventually.

"She's…an angel?"

He found that a little bit hard to swallow. But, then again, given what he'd seen…

"Not a full one, she's only one fifth. Her great, great grandmother was a true choir angel…complicated story but at its base it's that an angel fell for a human…she gave up heaven to be with him. Some of the traits got passed down, all of their children are musically inclined and they're all born with those birthmarks on their backs."

"Where their wings should be…"

"Right, I knew you were a clever lad."

"But still…an angel?"

"Oh, so you didn't think it was strange that she's quiet and polite, that she hates bloodsports and violence? Not to mention the fact that you turned up on the doorstep, drunk off your arse and instead of turning you away onto the street she let you in and even let you sleep in her bed?" James said, raising an eyebrow with a small smile, "That's not just being a good person, it's all angelical traits. Help the wretched and all that. My wife and daughter were both the same."

"Why did her wings only manifest now?"

"From what I remember Harmony, that was my wife, telling me, the wings manifest when a quick get away is required. In this case because she was terrified and probably not just for herself but for Banksy and you too, since you're her friend and she cares a lot about you…for some reason always thought it'd be Micky that it'd happen to."

"Oh, Micky…" he said somewhat more sullen than he'd intended, recalling the name she'd called the boy with white hair that one time, "her boyfriend."

And was surprised when Theresa's grandfather suddenly burst out laughing, though Kevin failed to see what was so funny.

"I'm sorry, but I've never heard anyone refer to Micky as Theresa's boyfriend…well, not since they were the age where 'you've got a boyfriend' was an insult anyway. No, I would say that Micky is more like a brother."

For some reason hearing that there was nothing more than friendship between the two made him smile. He still wasn't quite willing to delve too deeply into why that should be though.

He saw the older man look up at the clock on the kitchen wall and for moment, Kevin thought he was going to be asked to leave.

"…Hmm, well I was going to cook, but in light of events, I think I'll order a take-away…"

Kevin didn't know what to say, but Theresa's grandfather spoke again instead: "I'm going to check on Theresa, you're welcome to do the same."

* * *

It turned out that Theresa was just on the verge of waking up when they entered the room, her grandfather was at her side in a second to check her over.

"You ok there, angel?"

"My back hurts…" she said softly, and then fully focused on her grandfather, "did I dream that…or did I really…?"

"Yes, you really grew wings," he nodded

"Oh…then, it's…not just a story…'bout great-great-grandma Celesta…" she still seemed kind of dazed and half asleep.

"No, it's fact…we'll talk about it more later, OK? You good to sit up by yourself or…"

"I can…I think…Is Banksy OK?"

"He's in his basket, he's fine, don't worry."

"Good…that bloke hurt him…picked him up by the throat and squeezed…"

"I know, I heard, but he's fine and I'm ordering a take-away for dinner. What do you fancy?"

"Chinese?" She asked hopefully

"Whatever you want, angel." He hugged her, being careful not to hurt her back and then stood and ruffled her short locks fondly before heading out to where they kept the phone

Leaving Theresa alone with Kevin.

"Are you staying for dinner?" she asked softly, before rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"I…really can't stay," he said gently. Well, really more he wasn't sure if he should rather than he couldn't. It wasn't as if he had anywhere that he urgently had to be, but it'd be more polite to leave her and her grandfather alone to talk about what'd happened today…

"But baby it's cold outside," she whispered with a small sleepy smile, reaching for and grabbing his wrist gently, "'sides, it's raining now, you'll get wet and your mask might rust and THEN you'll get tetanus."

"Well…when you put it like that…"

"Come and sit down, don't stand there like a statue."

"Your grandfather said the same thing about three quarters of an hour ago," he told her sitting down on the sofa cushion next to hers.

"Well, it's true, you stand like one of those guards outside of Buckingham Palace…except I've heard you laugh…I think…anyway, come sit down, I'm not going to bite you."

"You're still groggy, aren't you?"

"A little bit…" she looked at him and said: "Thanks"

"For what?"

"For savin' me and Banksy from those two blokes…are you hurt? I saw him punch you…"

"I'm fine, I said…just…got winded from shock is all. Besides, all things considered, I think it's fair to say that, really, _you_ saved _me_."

They sat in total silence for a while, but it was a fairly comfortable silence. When Theresa's grandfather asked first if Kevin was staying for dinner and, having been told that he was, asked what they both wanted, they placed orders, then went back to silence for awhile longer.

Then:

"I got something to say…and if I wait until I'm fully awake, I might not say it…"

He stared at her, confused. Was this going to be another 'I don't want to be friends with you speech'? He wondered, but what she actually said nearly made him fall off the sofa in surprise.

"I really, really _**like**_ you…" she told him, looking down at her hands shyly.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Yep, you heard it right folks, the groggy part-angel girl was just completely honest about her feelings for our favourite iron masked wrestler. But no, I am not done yet. I mean, we haven't heard how Kevin feels yet and there's still quite a bit about Kevin that Theresa doesn't know about, right?_

_**Musical References:**__ 'Taking Tea in Dreamland' is from the game ' Alice' by American Macgee and Kevin and Theresa briefly quote some lines from 'Baby, It's Cold Outside' by Ella Fitzgerald and…someone else. I've forgotten who (sweatdrop) _


	17. Kind of Magic

_**Author's Note:**__ once again, this thing called Real Life came in and beat me up…I really have to get that restraining order._

_I also I sacrificed music for plot in this chapter…the heck is wrong with me?_

_On the bright side: Kevin has THE most amusing inner doubts. So enjoy._

* * *

…she liked him…

She _liked_ him?

She liked _him_?

Seriously?

Him…even though he'd lied to her, even though he'd turned up drunk on her doorstep and got her mixed up in his own fight…she liked him?

"You…like me?"

"I like you…" she nodded, "I like the person who saved my dog and shares tea with me and…" her blush got a little deeper, "who gave me my first kiss…"

Her first kiss?

And it'd been with him…

He felt strangely honoured…and somewhat…elated.

She liked him… not Kevin Mask The Wrestling Superstar, just him; Kevin Mask…

_She likes me…for me…_

That in its self was a novel experience.

Another thought that suddenly came to his attention was that nobody else had ever kissed her…In some small, abstract way, that was almost as if he was the best kisser she'd ever been with…it was a strange and slightly self-centred thought, but there it was.

Then again…she liked him NOW…what about if she found out about some of the things he'd done in the past? The things he'd said and, to a certain extent, the people he'd hurt…would she still feel the same?

Also, since she was part angel…if he upset her, what would happen?

Would a bolt of lightning strike him down when he least expected it?

Or maybe he'd be afflicted by 10 plagues?

Those were unnerving thoughts

Besides, what was it he'd heard about angels once?

Weren't they supposed to be uncomfortable in the presence of evil?

A soft weight was suddenly against his shoulder, he turned his head slightly to look and the sight made him smile, admittedly somewhat sheepishly, but he was still wearing his mask so no one saw it…

She'd gone to sleep again…against him.

…so either he wasn't evil or that story had been just that…

…Or she was really tired

"Theresa?"

"Mm?"

"Are you awake?"

"Mmm hmm…" she looked up and blinked blearily at him as she nodded.

"Can…I ask you a question?"

"Mmh hmm," she turned her head slightly, hiding her face in his arm.

"…Do I make you uncomfortable?"

"No…you're warm…n' really comfortable…" she said gently and a second later her eyes closed again

O-kay…maybe now wasn't a good idea to ask her things like that right now.

Maybe he should just be content with the fact that she liked him ad not let insecurity take that over…right?

"Hey…'f I put a coin here," Theresa said gently, gently tapping the bridge of his nose through the space in his mask for his eyes "will you do tricks?"

"I'm not coin operated,"

"Coin operated boy…that'd be funny. Love without complications galore…" she smiled at her own joke.

"Go to sleep, Theresa," he laughed gently, "I'll wake you up when the food arrives"

"'kay,"

* * *

Dinner was pretty casual, another thing that was different here his father's house. They'd set the food on a coffee table and ate off plates that they balanced on their laps with Banksy occasionally coming around and playing up his status as 'poor injured but brave doggy' bit in get pieces of meat.

It was…nice.

THIS was the sort of thing that made him jealous of Theresa and others home lives, here he didn't have to sit at the dinner table and try and remember which order he was supposed to use the cutlery in before he was allowed any food.

Though Theresa's grandfather did joke about the possibility of her bringing her keyboard down. When Kevin looked confused, Theresa, who was now slightly more alert, explained:

"Chopsticks. It's a piano piece written by Brahms. Gramps is trying to be funny," she smirked slightly at her guardian, "and failing miserably."

"Oi! Don't disrespect your elders, girl!" he shot back teasingly, affectionately cuffing her across the ear

"Mis-er-ah-blllllyyyy!" she sang, putting her plate and fork down before undauntedly poking him in the shoulder, "miiiiiiiiiiiiserably!"

"Don't make me get the baby album out," James Chappen threatened in a mock-stern voice.

"You wouldn't…"

"Want to bet?"

"Alright, alright…your joke wasn't _**un**_funny."

"Thank you."

"It was just bad." She stuck her tongue out and winked, earning herself another affectionate cuff, this time to the back of her head.

Kevin had heard the phrase 'I can feel the love in the room' but now he seemed to be witnessing it first hand. He really COULD feel the love in the room…and he couldn't work out why he felt like he was included in it.

Both of them treated him like a normal person, no questions about his past, about wrestling, about what it was like to horribly maim someone and neither of them gave him any special treatment, well beyond 'do you want a drink whilst I'm in the kitchen?' or 'is your food ok?'

It was, for want of a better word, relaxing not to have to be 'in character' for once and he actually found that he was enjoying himself.

This…

This must be…

…what it was like to have friends.

Halfway though a DVD, James excused himself, saying he was going to bed, but making it clear that Kevin was welcome to stay since the rain hadn't let up an inch, and adding that the spare room was made up already, before leaving them alone to watch the rest of the film.

"Theresa…" he said, about 15 minutes later, once they were alone.

"Hmm?" She turned her head slightly to look at him

"You…like me…" he said, feeling awkward, which was stupid because…OK, so this FELT like an awkward situation…

"Yes…" her tone implied that she was aware that there was no point in denying it now and was just waiting for him to make a move either way.

"I think that I…"

"You…what?"

Good question.

He…what?

DID he like her?

What did he want to say right now?

"…are you busy next week?"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ did he just ask her out? I think he just asked her out! Halleluiah! That ice is melting, baby!_

_Next time: Theresa is forced to embrace her newly discovered 'girly side' (or at least hold its hand for a little while)_

_**Musical References: **__Coin Operated Boy by the Dresden Dolls and Hey Leonardo (she likes me for me) by Blessed Union of Souls and 'Kind of Magic' by Queen._


	18. It's Hairspray

_**Author's Note:**__ Y'know that restraining order I'm trying to take out against the Real Life Monster that keeps bothering me? _

_Apparently it got to the lawyer's first and now it can come and beat me up whenever it damn well feels like it. (sigh)_

_Kevin: Why aren't I in this chapter?_

_Author: Shut up and go polish your mask or something, OK? If you're good, you get to have another kiss from Theresa._

_Kevin: I don't know why I put up with this treatment, I really don't._

_

* * *

_

Sunday, 9.25am, Michael "Micky" Dolenz buried his head under his pillow as his mobile phone rang right next to his ear.

He ignored it, hoping whomever it was would get the message and leave him alone. But it kept on ringing so with an annoyed grunt he flung out an arm and grabbed it.

"You've reached the den of Micky Dolenz," he drawled in what he thought was a sexy voice, "rock hard wanton sex god, wishing you were here and in bed with me, baby…"

"Micky, I have a problem…aside from the fact that you're spouting pornographic lingo at me…which is more than a little creepy by the way…"

"Theresa?!"

Oh boy…she wasn't going to let him live that one down!

Then he noticed that she sounded flustered…that wasn't like her…

Something must be really wrong!

"What's happened? Did your grandfather die?"

"No Gramps didn't die!" she responded, sounding affronted

"Oh…I'm relieved…so, what's wrong? Are you OK?"

"Kevin asked me out."

A LOT of people had asked Theresa out, all of them got turned down. This wasn't interesting and not worth being woken up for. It wasn't a problem.

Unless…

"Tezza…did you say 'yes'?"

"I didn't know what else to say!"

"Could've said what you've said to the dozen or so other blokes that've asked you out before. Starts with an 'N' and ends with an 'O'. Ring any bells?"

"Plenty, but I COULDN'T say 'no' to him! My mouth wouldn't let me!"

"Did you want to say 'no'? Come on, be honest now."

There was such a long silence that Micky began to think she'd hung up. But then she said quietly:

"No, no, I didn't…"

"Well then, there's only one thing left to say: where're you going? Is it fancy? What're you going to wear?"

"Uh…that's kind of my problem. I don't know, I don't know and I don't know…I don't even know how to ACT on a date!"

Well, this was true…and his first instinct was to tease her about it. However, his best friend instincts told him that he should take pity and help her out.

"Awww, my little Tezza is all grown up and finally aware that she's a girl! Look, don't worry about it. I'll make you up…what colours have you got?"

"Colours?"

"Make-up"

"I don't own any."

"What?! Tezza…you ARE female right?"

"Yes, Micky," she droned, rolling her eyes "it's on my birth certificate."

"In which case…you DID go through puberty…right?"

"Micky!"

"Just checking! I thought you'd at least have some lip-gloss or something!"

"This is ME you're talking to, my little Powder Puff," she knew that he knew her well enough to know that make-up wasn't her thing. She owned one lip balm but it was a brandless, scentless thing that she used purely to keep her lips from drying out and cracking, thus making it painful to play her recorder.

"Ok, fine," the white haired boy drew a breath on the other side of the phone and Theresa could quite easily imagine the face he was pulling, along the lines of 'Lord, what fool this mortal be' and hinting that he was a martyr right up there with Mother Theresa.

"You!" he suddenly said firmly down the phone line, making her jump a little bit, "Don't move! Not even an inch!"

"Uh…why?"

"Because I, Michael Amos Dolenz, the dedicated and loving best friend that you really don't deserve…"

"And modest as all Christendom," she interrupted with a small laugh

"Am going to take you make-up shopping in Central London!" he finished, ignoring the interruption.

"Oh Micky! Do we HAVE to?" she whined slightly, she didn't see the point of make-up, either someone found you attractive or they didn't, you didn't need to slather yourself in chemical by-products for that, surely?

She'd always thought make-up was worn by shallow people…and Micky…he knew that.

"Silence! I am turning you into a 'shallow lady' for one night," he snapped, as if reading her mind, "…no arguments!"

"Yes Mum,"

"You'll thank me later, I _swear_."

* * *

10 minutes later Theresa had Micky knocking on her front door, dragging her out by her arm.

15 minutes later they were on the tube to Oxford Circus.

2 hours later, Theresa was getting more than a little fed up of being treated like Micky's life-sized doll. By now she'd had so many products smeared onto and wiped off of her face that she'd lost count and couldn't believe that a lot of people actually put on about 3 tons of this stuff EVERY DAY.

"I feel like I'm wearing a mask, Mick," she complained as he tried out yet another sample of foundation on her.

"Oh hush up," her white haired friend replied, thinning out the creamy substance to an even coat, "Normal girls would be ecstatic at a day like this."

"I'm not normal."

"You said it," he teased, but relented slightly and wiped the moussey stuff off her skin with a wetwipe. (A habit that his cleanliness conscious mother had enforced in him since childhood – he always had a packet on him somewhere) "I don't think you need foundation anyway, Tezza, your skin looks pretty good without it."

"Can we go home then?"

"No…I'm not done yet…" he stood back and looked at her critically, like an artist with a model, "We haven't found you anything."

"Can we at least get a drink?"

Her throat was dry and her face was starting to feel odd from all the chemicals he'd tried on her.

"I don't know…we've only got 5 more hours until the shops close…"

"Please, Micky. I am about to start begging you for mercy. Do this one thing for me and I…I…won't complain about how much gunk you try on me."

"Reeeeeeeaaaaalllllllllyyyy?" her friend crooned, deviously, "what're we waiting for? Let's go get a drink!" and so saying he grabbed her arm once more and dragged her out of the shop before she could take back her offer.

* * *

True to her word, once she'd been allowed to have a drink, a bottle of diet lemonade from a handily nearby newsagents, Theresa didn't complain once as Micky continued to smear and wipe off various coloured chemical gunk's on her before finally, FINALLY declaring that all she needed was _this _grey-blue kohl eyeliner, _this_ light sliver-blue eye-shadow and _this_ cherry scented, pearlescent, barely pink, lipstick. (None of them tested on animals, of course. That was one thing Theresa had put her foot down on – there would be NO animal cruelty just for one date)

THEN he took her home and proceeded to demonstrate how to apply the stuff to herself.

"Who the heck taught you to do this?" she asked, trying not to blink as he put kohl on her.

"My dad taught me everything I know," he said cheerfully

"Micky, your dad's a morti…cian," she trailed off, "…oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'. Some people want to view their loved ones before they go six feet under."

"Charming." She wrinkled up her nose in distaste.

"Hold still!"

"Sorry!"

It took another 45 minutes before Micky was satisfied that she could apply the stuff without making herself look 'like a cheap tart from Soho or a bad impression of a drag queen', and let her wash the stuff off for a final time.

Then they both flopped back onto her bed, side by side, staring at her ceiling.

"So…when is this date?"

"Tomorrow, about 6pm."

"You going to be OK?"

"If I'm not I'll phone you on my mobile."

"Promise?"

"Brownie's honour"

"You were a brownie for less than a month. I don't think it counts."

"Either way, if there's trouble you'll be the first one I'll phone, OK?"

"Cool…" they lay there in silence for awhile, before Micky's chest started to shake with laughter.

"OK, what's so funny?"

"Just thinking about what would happen if your grandfather found us like this and I WASN'T gay."

"If you weren't gay that'd be OK, I mean 'cos hey, I like you aaaaaanyway," she sang at him gently.

"Haha, funny!" he said, hitting her gently with a pillow. "You realise that this is big gossip right?"

"What is?" Theresa asked, moving the pillow

"That you, that's YOU, Theresa Chappen, head permanently in the clouds and ears full of music, breaker of more hearts than Marilyn Monroe-"

"You're exaggerating, my little Powder Puff," (this was a nickname that only Theresa could call him without getting smacked for it.)

"Am not – YOU, are actually going on a date with an actual bloke!"

"As opposed to taking out a cardboard cut out? You're over acting," she told him, sitting up, "cut it out."

"I'm just happy for you…I mean, blokes ask you out on an almost daily basis ans you turn them all down, and you do it without hurting their feelings. Then THIS bloke comes along and suddenly you start acting like girls in our age group normally do…I was actually starting to wonder if you were human to be honest."

Silence

"Tezza?"

"…Mostly human."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ lacked Kevin Mask, didn't it? Then again, I have to wonder what he was doing whilst Theresa was being dragged around by Micky…(ponders)_

_Besides, this chapter gave me a chance to develop Micky slightly. Now he's more than just a background character._

_Next time is date time! And we'll answer those (maybe not so) burning questions like:_

_Where will they go?_

_What will they do?_

_What the heck are they going to talk about?_

_Will Kevin actually notice that Theresa is wearing make-up?_

_Will they run into more DMP or New Generation people?_

_Find out the answers…once I've written the next few chapters!_

_Stay tuned!_

_Musical Reference: 'It's Hairspray' from 'Hairspray' and 'If you were Gay' from Avenue Q_


	19. First Date

_**Author's Note:**__ Well, here it is. The big first date chapter…_

_There's not a lot I can say without giving away too much…but Kevin is SO MUCH fun to torture with inner doubts!_

_Seriously. You've no idea unless you've written it for yourself._

_**Kevin:**__ Remind me why I put up with this sort of treatment?_

_**Author:**__ Non Mary-Sue girlfriend and the possibility of getting into her knickers at some point in the future?_

_**Kevin: **__Really? (ponders)_

_**Theresa:**__ Hey! I HEARD that!_

* * *

He wasn't nervous.

He never got nervous.

It was in his head…

He wasn't nervous about taking out Theresa.

Not. At. All.

Right?

_Then why is your hand shaking? _

_Why didn't you manage to get much sleep last night? _

_You're nervous…_

I am not!

_Then why are you standing on her doorstep and NOT knocking the door? _

_Answer that._

_Since you're not nervous._

_At. All._

…Good question.

He could do this…all he had to do was knock the door.

Wasn't difficult…

Much to his own disgust, he found he was bracing himself as he rapped the door a few times.

As usual, Banksy started barking as a warning to whoever it was at the door. This continued for a few minutes longer than Kevin was comfortable with; it allowed some doubts to creep in.

What if she'd changed her mind?

What if she'd bolted?

What if she'd suddenly decided that she didn't like him anymore?!

He was being stupid, of course, but this is a normal train of thought for ANY man waiting for the girl to show up.

Then, much to his relief, he heard her say, "Banksy! Shush! Go to your basket! Go on!" and then the door opened.

If this had been a movie, she would've been dolled up to the nth degree when she opened the door. As it was she was wearing jeans and that tie-dyed blouse again.

A good (read: cautious) outfit for someone who didn't know what to expect

"Hey," she said gently, giving him a small, shy-ish smile.

"Are you ready?" he asked, hoping he sounded confident.

"Yes," she nodded, "just let me grab my ja-Aaaah! OH MY GOD!"

That last part was due to Kevin having picked her up and started into a run before she could change her mind or take about 20 minutes to get her jacket…he'd heard that it was a common conspiracy amongst females to leave their dates waiting.

Eventually she stopped looking so panicked as she realised he wasn't going to drop her and it was rather nice to have her holding around his neck, even if it was for dear life.

Finally, he reached where he'd decided to take her for the night, and then deemed it a necessity to ask:

"Are you alright?"

"Well," she said, swallowing slightly, "once I…got over the heart attack…it was pretty exhilarating. You're fast…"

"Part of the training" he set her down carefully.

"We're in the park…" she said, looking around.

"This seemed like a good place to start…is it not to your liking?"

Oh Christ! What if he'd screwed up by bringing her here…he'd hoped the casual setting would reassure her that nothing was 'expected' of her…

But maybe it had bad memories…the last time they'd been here together the New Generation idiots had interrupted them and completely ruined their moment after…after their first kiss…

"What? No, I was just thinking aloud. I didn't know where we were at first, its hard to know your surroundings when you're travelling at 100 miles per hour and your eyes are closed," she reassured quickly with a smile, "I like it here, it's one of my favourite places."

Inwardly he sighed with relief.

Good, NOT a mistake to bring her here.

* * *

"Tell me about you," Theresa said as they sat together on a wooden bench along the side of the grey gravel path of the park.

"Me?"

"Yes, you. Y-O-U. The person I'm here with right now. I've known you for a few months but I don't really know much about you…I'll shut up now…"

"No…No it's…fine…What do you want to know?"

"I don't know…what sort of friends did you have when you were little? Did you hang out with the children of other wrestlers?"

"…I…" he paused, should he tell her? She might think he was odd…

Then again…she knew what he did for a living, seen him at pretty much his worst, he'd seen her grow wings and he was now aware of the fact that she was part angel…what did he have to lose in telling her?

"I've never had any friends," he said softly, "…I was never allowed any."

"Oh…were you one of those sickly kids when you were little and your parents were afraid of germs?"

"No." he shook his head, "I was home schooled my entire life because my father saw friends and a social life as something that would distract me from my studies and training. He wanted me to grow up to be almost a carbon copy of him. He wanted me to be the greatest wrestler in the world…greater than the Kinniku family."

"You don't get on with your dad, huh?"

"Not really…I ran away when I was 15…couldn't take anymore. I was just tired of it all…"

"And then you joined the DMP."

"How do you know about that?!"

Shit! She probably thought he was a monster now!

"Calm down," she said reassuringly, "It wasn't too hard to work out, not after those two blokes last weekend…they said they were going to show you what happened to people who betrayed it…it's a rival wrestling group to the one you're with, right?"

"Right…my father's enemies…I joined to spite him…foolish now that I look back…"

"What about your mum? What did she say about it?"

And there was the big, painful question.

"…My mother…died when I was a toddler."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not a problem," he shrugged, "I was 3 when she died so I don't remember her that much…" he paused, now that he'd started talking, he couldn't seem to stop, "It was as if…when she died, he erased every trace of her, I don't remember there being any photos of her around, my father wouldn't talk about her…I think it was because he thought that it would make me soft or something."

They sat in silence for a long while, then Theresa said thoughtfully: "Maybe I'm wrong and you can tell me to shut up if you want but…it sounds like he must have missed her a lot."

"What?"

"Well…maybe it wasn't that he got rid of the photos and stopped talking about her because he thought it'd interfere with your training. Maybe it's because he found having the photos and things that reminded him of her around to be painful. And at least he stuck around to raise you…there's a ton of things he could've done."

That Robin Mask missed his wife was an angle Kevin had never considered before…

Sympathy for his father…

It WOULD take an angel to point that out.

Then he noticed that Theresa was vaguely rubbing her arms. The shirt she had on was pretty thin after all…

_Idiot! It's winter and you brought her out without a jacket! She's probably bloody frozen by now!_

"Are you OK?"

_What kind of question is that?! Does she LOOK OK?_

"I'm OK…" she nodded, "just cold…it's alright…don't worry about it."

_Well…what're you going to do now, genius?_

What was he going to do…?

Unthinkingly he dropped an arm around her shoulders and felt her jump slightly.

"Kevin, what're you-?"

"You're cold…and there may be muggers around," he said gruffly "and I'm quite certain your grandfather will do terrible things to me if you get ill or hurt."

"Probably true…" she nodded and moved closer to his side to soak up some more of his body heat - it really was bloody freezing out.

"I dread to think what he'd do if we ever break up…"

Those words were out before he could stop them. He felt her stiffen slightly and then he could feel her gaze on him and somehow knew that they were looking at him in surprise if not actual, full-blown shock. It was at that point he wished he could crawl into a hole somewhere and just die quietly

"You're being a bit presumptuous aren't you?" she said in a deadpan voice.

Oh shit!

Attempting to joke…or at least, attempting to sound like he was joking, he said:

"You don't think we'll break up?"

"Not that," a corner of her mouth crooked up slightly into a teasing smile, "I didn't know that we were dating in the first place, why wasn't I told?"

And just like that, the tense atmosphere was broken before it could get any worse and completely ruin tonight.

Except that now he didn't know what to do.

Certainly it felt comfortable to have her cuddled against his side again, but weren't you supposed to do something besides sit in silence?

"So…" Theresa said suddenly, breaking his thought process

"So…?" he echoed, in the dim light the lamp at the side of the path offered, he could just about see that she was blushing "So…what?"

"So…are you going to kiss me or not?"

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__Forward when she knows what she wants, isn't she? Yes, I'm probably going to drag this date out – you've got the start of if…but what else will they do besides kiss?_

_I'm open to suggestions_

_**Musical Reference:**__ None. Except the title which is a song by Blink-182 as far as I'm aware…once again, I went ahead and sacrificed music for mood_


	20. Can't Go Wrong Without You

_**Author's Note:**__ Right. I'm sorry this took so long. But the Real Life Monster's been beating me pretty hard, then I got the dreaded Writer's Block and then I caught a cold. _

_Seriously._

_Uh…anyway, I kind of break the fourth wall a little bit in this one…not a lot, it's only because Kevin's being so dense that it's annoying. I'll fix the fourth wall afterwards, I swear!_

_And the path of true love never did run smooth…as both Kevin and Theresa are about to find out._

_I have baseball bats at the ready…you'll see why when you get to the end…_

_(the author hides)_

* * *

"Will I be struck down by lighting for defiling an angel?"

Theresa blinked…after a few seconds she laughed gently, "I doubt it. If you weren't struck down the first time…" and reached for his mask, helping in removing it. Then she paused slightly, taking in what he looked like properly for the first time.

She doubted anyone would believe her if she told them that he had freckles across his nose.

"Always pays to know in advance, Theresa," he replied and without his mask on she could see him smile.

…and then Theresa forget everything, including the need to breathe, as his mouth met hers.

Smiling…

He was smiling…

She could feel him smiling through the kiss…

…Amazing…

* * *

"Well, that part's out of the way," she teased gently, resting her head against his shoulder afterwards, as he put his mask back. "When do we start acting awkward again?"

Kevin couldn't help it.

He laughed.

"You are quite the little joker, aren't you?"

"Gran told me that a joke can make a bad situation good or a good situation even better."

"So what is this? A bad situation or a good one?"

"You can't tell by the horrified look on my face?"

"Is it hiding somewhere under the smug look?"

"Well, I've been waiting a long time for that second kiss because, let me see…the second time you tried to kiss me, you ended up throwing up in the rose bushes on the front lawn because you were drunk out of your skull…the third time…"

"YOU were the one who denied that kiss, you ran off to shower…"

"I was scared!" she protested, "this is new terra firma for me you know…not used to having someone want to kiss me…"

"And I am?"

"Which one of us is the wrestling super star with a ton of fans? Come on," she poked his shoulder in a teasing way, "be honest."

"That's not the same…"

"Yes it is," Theresa nodded, a stray wisp of hair falling over one eye, "it means you've hundreds of people wanting to kiss you…"

"Why do you say 'people' and not just 'girls'?"

"Can't ignore the gay community, the PC police will be all over me."

"The PC police?"

"Shh!" She pressed a finger against his lips and looked around comically, "They can _**hear**_ you!" then she smiled again and winked.

_This is how teenagers act,_ that voice at the back of Kevin's mind told him, being nice to him for once, _you're still a teenager yourself…Act normal for once._

I don't know what normal is!

_Act the opposite of how your father taught you, laugh, make stupid unsophisticated jokes…just act how you've seen other blokes in your age group act._

I will NOT act like that idiot Mantaro!

_Not him! The ones on the streets. Like them._

You want me to call her disgusting names and threaten to hurt her if she doesn't give me a kiss?

_Not THOSE blokes either, you bloody idiot! _

_Act like the normal ones who actually get on with girls and want to impress them slightly_

_Ask her things about her. _

I already know abou-

_Things you __**don't**__ know about her, dimwit._

Well, what sort of things am I supposed to ask?

_What's her favourite place to go? What films does she like? What's she want to do with her life? That sort of thing _

_You're interested in her, so act interested in her!_

He blinked as a hand waved in front of his face,

"Kevin?" Theresa asked, looking up slightly concerned, "you alright?"

"Hmm? I'm fine…just wondering a few things…"

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"Well, why don't you have a musical name like your mother and grandmother?"

"I _do_ have a musical name," she told him, expression clearly wondering why he'd asked.

"You're called 'Theresa'," he pointed out, "the last I heard that wasn't a musical name."

"It's my first name. My _middle _name, however, is Symphony. It's poetic."

"Theresa Symphony is poetic?"

"Mmh hmm," she nodded, "See,'Theresa' means 'Late Summer'. So, my name is literally 'Late Summer Symphony. Mum was feeling poetic at the time…or she high off the painkillers, it's the same thing."

"When is your birthday?"

"August twenty-third. Late Summer…do I get to ask you questions now?"

He blinked at her in surprise. "I…suppose…"

"What's your favourite colour?

"Blue" That was easy. This 'asking questions' thing was a piece of cake.

"Should've guessed from the mask colour," she laughed and then paused briefly, "Can we move to somewhere warmer please? Not that this isn't cosy, but…I can't really feel my toes anymore"

Oh…So it wasn't that easy…and apparently hadn't gone that well if she wanted to leave already

"I'll escort you home…" he said blankly, standing up slowly. Damn…she wanted to leave already…

"What?" she blinked, "I-I don't want to go home yet…unless…you want me to go, Kevin?"

Was that hurt he heard in her voice?

"I…thought that's what you were asking."

"I just said I want to go somewhere warmer than the park because I'm cold now is all. I don't have to be home until 10pm on a school night. There's a café about two streets away that I like to go to, they're open late and sometimes there's live music by the house band …we could go there and get some tea, sit in the warm for a bit…?"

"Oh…"

So that WASN'T a rejection…she really WAS physically cold.

_Idiot…She does __**not **__have a jacket on, remember?_

"What's this place called?"

"The Penguin Café"

"There's no Karaoke, is there?" he asked, "I refuse to do karaoke." No matter how much he might like…he corrected himself quickly there…as much as he was slightly more than mildly fond of Theresa, he would NOT go to a Karaoke bar.

Never.

"No Karaoke at all, just the house band or some recorded music." She stood, paused and then grinned, "You mean you've been to Japan but you've never done karaoke? You do surprise me."

"I'm a wrestler, not a singer."

"I don't get it when people say things like that. As if their profession stops them singing. Unless…are you a bad singer, Kevin?"

He honestly didn't know. He didn't remember if he'd ever sung in his life. If he had, he'd probably been told to stop because it was ungentlemanly.

OK…how did he respond to this?

_Joke with her. She might laugh even if it's a bad joke…what's she like?_

She only seems to like music!

…_think of a musical joke! A pun! Anything!_

"I'll tell you something I think you'll understand…I want to hold your hand"

He could see Theresa trying to work out where she'd heard that before. Then it came to her and she smiled.

"Are you the owner of a lonely heart?" she asked coyly, moving her arm outwards slightly in offering.

Took him a moment to realise she'd just thrown his joke back at him. OK, two could play at this…

"Until we aren't strangers anymore," he told her, loosely lacing their fingers together…couldn't risk her getting lost after all, or attacked or something.

"Chances are we are mad" she laughed as they started to walk.

* * *

The Penguin Café turned out to be one of those places that was too low down to be a high-class place but too upscale to be a greasy spoon. What you ended up with was a fairly high-class place that served tea at greasy spoon prices.

A sign on the front, written in blue, red and orange chalk declared that there was: 'Live Music Inside'

In it's favour, to Kevin's mind, it did lack any karaoke equipment, as promised and the interior looked clean, having warm yellow walls, red leather and wooden chair and had a casual air about it. A small stage was set up in the back, some instruments set out ready but no sign of any musicians.

Nobody spared him a second glance when they entered…most of the clientele seemed engrossed in books or their laptop computers or simply talking to each other. It wasn't a place for sports fans, he realised; it was a place for intellectuals and artists.

He could see why Theresa would like it here.

They ordered at the counter, Lady Grey for him and Lemon and Ginseng for Theresa, though he had no clue what the stuff she asked for a shot of in her tea was, or what it added to the taste. It was her tea, he wasn't going to drink any of it, after all.

"What do you do here?" he asked

"Drink herbal tea and people watch."

"People watch?"

"Mmh hmm," she nodded, leading him quickly to and sitting down at a table that was beside the window, "you sit and you watch the people go by or the people in the café and you guess where they're going or what they're writing or what they're talking about or just why they're here."

"That seems rather pointless…"

"Don't knock it until you've tried it," she advised gently…then added thoughtfully "though sometimes, if it's raining, I like to do the crossword."

"Not seriously?"

"I'm not just a pretty face. Gramps had me helping him with the crossword before I could walk…did you think I wasn't very clever because I had pink hair when we met first?"

Kevin was glad his mask covered his guilty look. He _**had**_ thought she wasn't quite all there…

Wait a minute…Just to be certain…

"Which crossword?"

"Times…Gramps likes the cryptic cross word they do."

THAT was a surprise

"You surprise me."

She stuck her tongue out at him and winked

"So what if I dye my hair? Still got a brain up there" Theresa tapped her head and grinned to show that she was joking.

"Why DO you dye it, anyway?" He vaguely remembered asking this once before, but couldn't remember if she'd given him an answer. If she had he couldn't remember it.

"It stops people assuming I'm stupid just because I'm naturally blonde."

"_**I'm**_ naturally blond and no-one has ever accused me of being stupid."

Theresa looked him…well, it probably should've been up and down but since she was shorter than him it ended up being up and further up; that slight teasing smile crooking one corner of her mouth again as she flexed her fingers around her mug of tea.

"Are you sure they're not just too intimidated to call you stupid?"

"That…could be a factor. But you forgot one thing," Kevin told her with mock-seriousness

"What's that?"

"I'm an English gentleman, I'm not capable of being stupid. We're far too intelligent." He put on a haughty pose (and was mentally VERY surprised to find he was actually enjoying himself right now)

Theresa opened her mouth, no doubt to make some retort back but before she could even draw breath to do so something started on stage…some sort of commotion that sounded horribly familiar to Kevin.

"Whaddaya mean you want me to get off the stage! This is a karaoke café right?"

Both Kevin and Theresa slowly turned to look at the stage, there, right in the middle, holding a microphone, surrounded by the house band, all three members looking at him in agitation and annoyance, was a familiar, leotard-clad, pig-faced person they both knew and wished that they didn't.

"…isn't that…?" Theresa began and couldn't finish.

Kevin covered his face (or, rather, the eye space of his mask) with his hand and nodded, "Yes…It's Mantaro Muscle…"

"Do you think we can leave without him seein-" she didn't get to finish that sentence because Mantaro noticed them, waved at them and yelled gleefully at them

'Heeeey! Kevin Mask and Kevin Mask's girlfriend! Glad I didn't mess up your relationship! You got any requests while I'm up here? Heeeeey! Guuuuuys!"

"Will he shut up if we ignore him?" Theresa mumbled, covering her face with her palm, face scarlet from the humiliation.

"I doubt it," Kevin told her, "he doesn't take it as an insult, he assumes you haven't heard…"

"Guys! Are ya deaf?" he waved, got down off the stage, rushing towards their table, ignoring the shouts of the people whose tables he knocked and drinks he spilt on the way there.

"Hi!" without preamble, he pulled out a spare chair and sat down with them, "this karaoke bar isn't great, they won't let me sing and the musicians are so uppity! We should go and find somewhere else!"

'_Somebody is torturing me'_ Kevin thought, his right eye twitching irritably, '_Someone somewhere is having a huge laugh at my expense. If I find out who it is…I'm going to kill them.'_

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ OK, pending my demise by enraged Kevin Mask, I'm going to run away now and start on the next chapter. _

_You ain't see me, right?_

_(bolts very quickly)_

_For anyone interested, Theresa asked for a shot of __Echinacea in her tea - it's supposed to give your immune system a boost and generally promote health. _

_Very health conscious person, that girl._

_Must be the hippie heritage. _

_Musical references (I think I went crazy here, but oh well, they are as follows): Theresa quotes 'I wanna be free' by Toyah Wilcox, 'I wanna hold your hand' by The Beatles, 'Owner of a Lonely Heart' by Yes, 'Chances are we are mad' by His Name is Alive, and Penguine Café Orchestra (see? Bad punning is alive)_


	21. Duct Tape My Heart

_**Author's Note:**__ Gah! I am SO sorry! The Writer's Block Demon got me so this chapter was hanging around my files for ages and every time I tried to sit down and write the Real Life Monster kept knocking me unconscious._

_Still, here it is. Enjoy._

_And I'm still handing out baseball bats for those of you who want to beat up Kid Muscle._

_**Kevin:**__ Can we PLEASE just get on with the story?_

_**Author: **alright, alright…demand much? _

_So, without further grumbling from Kevin…here is the next part._

* * *

"Kid," Kevin started with as much patience as he could muster, "What are you doing here?"

"Singin' Karaoke, duh!"

"I MEANT here in London."

"Oh…Christmas shopping! The girls wanted to come here so me and the guys came along too!"

"Then why aren't you with them?"

"Uh…they didn't want me to know what they were buying…they're gonna call my cell phone and we'll meet up afterwards" Kid paused, then announced, loudly, "Man, I'm thirsty!"

Theresa blinked and gasped softly in surprise and affront as Mantaro snatched her mug from her unresisting hands and downed it in one gulp, then yelped loudly, attracting the attention of the patrons that weren't already staring at him, as it struck him that the beverage had still been boiling hot.

"That stuff was gross!" he said afterwards, "you should ask for your money back. Tasted like it'd gone bad."

"You…drank my tea…" Theresa said softly, almost tearing up as she looked into the now empty mug that'd only seconds before held her favourite drink, complete with a shot of Echinacea.

"Well yeah…I was thirsty. You guys didn't get me a drink and you weren't drinking yours so I thought you didn't want it."

"…you…drank…my tea…"

She'd barely had two sips of it and now it was gone.

What Mantaro probably had no idea of was how seriously the Brits took their tea; you certainly never drank someone else's mug of tea.

You especially didn't do that without even _**asking**_ them first.

"So," Kid Muscle continued, oblivious to the glares the café customers and Kevin were giving him, "What are we gonna do now?" He thought, or looked like he was trying to think "We could get some food!" and would've launched into his cow and rice song but was interrupted by the scraping of a chair as it was pushed back.

"Kevin, will you take me home now please?" Theresa asked, standing up

"…Yes, I will." He nodded; standing also and, after only a second of thought took her hand again, drawing her close to his side.

"Great!" Mantaro enthused, standing also and pushing between them, dropping an arm around both of their shoulders, "I'll call the guys and tell them to meet us, so we can order cow and rice on the way to Kevin's Girlfriends house and watch movies and sing karaoke to the music channels all night! That's a great idea! It'll be fun!"

Theresa turned to him, forcibly removed his arm from her shoulder, fixing the Prince of Muscle Planet with a freezing glance as hell fires raged in her eyes. Her voice, when she spoke, was so cold that it gave him and everyone else close enough to hear it the most horrible chills.

"If you even walk down my street, I will set my dog on you."

And with that, she let Kevin lead her out, leaving Kid to quake at the threat of his least favourite animal being set on him.

* * *

"How did you know he's afraid of dogs?" Kevin asked later, when they were a good distance from the café.

They were leaning against a wall, just looking upwards at the sky, which was clear.

"I didn't," Theresa shrugged, she was half under his coat, hugging his side as protection against the cold "I just threaten to set Banksy on anyone who annoys or scares me."

"You've never threatened to set Banksy on me, save when I gave you back your music and you thought I was stalking you"

"Well, there'd be no point in setting him on you."

"Oh? Why not?" He was genuinely curious about that

"Banksy likes you, so unless you're afraid of being covered in dog slobber I don't think you have much to worry about."

"The dog likes me?"

"Yep and he's a good judge of character"

"So…what about you?"

"Me?" she blinked and then smiled a little, "I'm just a simple girl who's hooked to your sweet charm"

Underneath his mask, Kevin blushed. No one had ever accused him of being 'sweet' before…unless you counted fangirls and he didn't.

There was more silence as they both tried to work out what to do with themselves now that the 'go and people watch in a café' plan had been fouled up and Theresa was pretty certain that she wouldn't be able to show her face there again for at least a fortnight. (Kevin was also trying not to think about how nice it felt to be cuddled together with Theresa like this but kept that to himself)

"Do you want to go home?" he asked eventually. He didn't want to drop her off yet but if there was nothing else, nowhere she wanted to go then he didn't have much of a choice.

"…No." she stood quietly for a while longer, just listening to the now low buzz of traffic, and then something occurred to her, "I know what we can do for the next two hours."

"I wait with baited breath,"

"I'm not going to tell you if you're going to be childish about it." And for some reason that made her laugh, he could feel her ribcage vibrating with it. It was an odd feeling, but not a bad one.

"Go on, tell me your idea."

"Well…you're the one who didn't have much of a childhood…we can make up for it a little bit."

"How do you propose to do that? I _**am**_ an adult by most legal standards of this country"

"So? It's easy, we'll go back to the park, find the playground part of it and play on the swings. I'll even buy you something to eat that has absolutely no nutritional value whatsoever on the way there."

Kevin considered this. This wasn't what he'd heard people did when they went out. What was the point of acting like a child when you were an adult?

Then again…she was trying to be nice…

"No nutritional value?" he asked

"None," Theresa confirmed

"Not even a _little_ nutritional value?" he held his thumb and index finger an inch apart.

"No, no nutritional value whatsoever. Nutrition is for adults."

"And what is in this for me, exactly?"

"You get to do something childish without people telling you off, games without frontiers, some food that you eat just for the hell of it…and I'll give you another kiss"

* * *

"How do you open these things?"

He stared blankly at the vacuum-sealed, plastic wrapped tube of…something that the packaging proclaimed it was a Jelly Pen, pineapple flavoured and completely fat free (of course, that didn't mean it wasn't pure sugar and as such it had the 'no nutritional value' that Theresa had promised). The only problem he could see was that there was no way of opening it so he could actually eat it.

He and Theresa were sat on a swing each, Theresa watching him to see how he took to the sweet stuff. She started when he asked her how to open it then nodded understandingly.

"Easy. You use your teeth, it's half the fun," she told him and demonstrated, ripping the plastic packaging of her own 'Jelly Pen' (sour green apple flavour, apparently it was her favourite) open at the top with her incisors and front teeth…that sight giving him some mental pictures about…something completely different…

It got worse when she sucked the slick sugary item out its packaging as if she were slurping up spaghetti, swallowed it in one go and then licked any residual sugar from her lips.

"Your turn," she told him afterwards, tucking the plastic debris into the pocket of her jeans.

Kevin looked from the sugary confection to Theresa and back again.

It was stupid to be afraid of trying it…Theresa'd assured him that if he didn't like it, he didn't have to finish it.

So it was with a deep breath, which he just about managed to pass of as a sigh of inevitability, he took his mask off and set it at his feet on the floor then copied how he'd seen Theresa open the packaging.

…

……

………

"That was revolting…are there any more?"

"That bad, huh?" Theresa seemed amused as she passed him another tube of the sweet confection and then started to swing herself slowly back and forth with the ease of someone who'd been practicing since childhood.

"You really weren't allowed to play when you were little?" she asked eventually.

"No…" he finished his second tube of sweet stuff, "too ungentlemanly"

"Rubbish!" Theresa snorted, "I thought being a gentleman meant being able to interact with other people…my grandmother always said that sort of thing starts in childhood when you play with other kids"

"Your grandmother was just full of insightfulness, wasn't she?"

"She was one third angel, it was what she did."

For a while the only sound was the slight _squeak…squeak…squeak_ of the swing as it went back and forth.

"Tell me about you," Kevin said, watching Theresa carefully; fully aware he was throwing her own question back at her.

"Not much to tell," she shrugged, a difficult thing to do when in mid-swing, but she managed it quite well, "You know most of it already. You already know that I'm illegitimate, music obsessed, I play in a very odd rock band and that I'm part angel but not enough of one to be of much significance in the grand scheme of things"

"Yes but…" he floundered slightly trying to think of a question, "…tell me what do you want to do when you leave school?"

That made her pause, though the swing continued to go back and forth gently. She considered the question and for a while, Kevin thought she wasn't going to answer.

"…I want to teach," she said eventually, her tone was soft, almost a whisper, as if she were waiting for his reaction.

He didn't see what was so bad about wanting to be a teacher. OK, so he wouldn't have thought of that as a career she'd want but why be that way about it?

"What's wrong with that? I don't see anything wrong with wanting to teach music

"I don't want to teach music. I want to teach disabled children," Theresa scuffed her shoe gently in front of her and continued, "People usually laugh at me when I say that. They think I'm joking.'"

She shook her head, as if to dispel the low mood and smiled mischievously before starting to swing in earnest.

"Come on, I'll race you! We'll see who can swing highest!"

She pushed herself, managing to make herself swing high and fast in what seemed like seconds.

And then she did something unexpected…

She jumped!

Simply let go of the chains and jumped from the swing at it reached the highest point in the forward motion.

Kevin felt his heart stop in his chest.

She was going to kill herself!

She was going to break her neck!

He watched as she landed on her feet, wobbled from the shockwaves, lost her footing and then fell backwards, hard, in the grass and lay still and unmoving.

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Now what'd she go and do that for? (blinks) Also, Jelly Pens are real. They're cheap, brightly coloured and full of sugar...also apparently only available in bags of 25 from £1 shops in the UK_

_Theresa's choice of career suprised me too, tbh…I could've sworn I wanted her to be a music teacher in the first draft…Then again, she's an angel and working with the less fortunate IS something an angel would do…Eh, oh well, she's still young, there's time for her to change her mind._

_**Theresa:**__ I'm not going to change my mind. I'm going to work with disabled children._

_**Author:**__ You're sure about that?_

_**Theresa:**__ Positive. I'm not afraid of hard work…I hang out with Kevin after all. (giggles)_

_**Kevin:**__ Hey!_

_**Author:**__ that's true…_

_**Kevin:**__ Is this international 'pick on Kevin' day or something?_

_**Musical References:**__ Duct Tape My Heart by Freezepop, Can I Play with Madness? By Iron Maiden, Games Without Frontiers by Peter Gabriel and Love You Promised by Casceda_


	22. Swing Life Away

_**Author's Note:**__ I haven't forgotten! I had the most HORRIBLE case of writer's block. That and this is a chapter with such a relaxed atmosphere I was really loath to ruin that…so I didn't and I'm saving up any excitement for the next one_

_OK, to recap: Kevin & Theresa are on a date…almost ruined, once again, by Mantaro Muscle's complete lack of social graces and inability to tell when people just want to be left alone…also by his inability to grasp that 'Live Music' is not the same as 'Karaoke Bar'_

_The chapter ended up with Theresa throwing herself off a swing_

_For this one…it's mostly talking and flirting, it's cute, even if I say so myself_

_**Kevin:**__ Shouldn't you be starting the story by now? You've kept the people waiting long enough._

_**Author:**__ I had Writers Block, OK?!_

_**Kevin:**__ What's that saying about 'bad work men blaming their tools'? (smirks)_

_**Author:**__ just for that, you're not getting any in the next chapter._

_**Ke**__**vin:**__ WHAT?!_

* * *

_Was she breathing? Was she breathing?_

"Theresa?"

Thank God! She was breathing!

Tentatively, he shook her shoulder.

"Grr!"

The sheer shock was the only thing that allowed Theresa to actually knock him over.

"So much for hoping to get the kiss of life…" she laughed, looking down at him innocently from her position, she was straddling his stomach.

"…You…!"

"How far did I get?" she asked brushing the grass out of her hair, "did I win?"

"Did you…Did you win? That's all you can say?!" he yelled incredulously, sitting up on his elbows, making her shift downwards so she was sitting on his lap instead (not that he noticed, being too busy being incredulous) "I think you just took 10 years off my life!"

"My mum used to say that when I was little …"

She smiled at him.

Actually smiled at him!

His heart was hammering against his ribcage and his chest was heaving, he'd been that worried and she was SMILING!

"I'm NOT joking! You scared me half to death!"

Theresa looked up at him, obviously exceedingly surprised by his outburst…and it was only when she reached up and he actually felt her hand touch the skin of his cheek that he realised he hadn't put his mask back on and she'd been able to clearly read his expressions for the last little while

"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, lowering her hand from his face before hesitantly hugging him around the neck, "I didn't mean to scare you."

Unthinkingly, he hugged back tightly, unaware of just how tightly until Theresa made a noise of discomfort when she couldn't catch a whole breath because of it.

"What in the hell possessed you to jump?" He asked, loosening his grip and allowing her to move back slightly.

"I always jump," she replied, taking a few deep breaths, "it's part of swinging. Reach the highest point you can and jump off to see how far you get."

"…and where does the 'scare the bloke you're out with' part come in?"

"Ah, that's the 'maybe if I play dead I can get a kiss without looking too eager' part. Very important."

"You already promised me a kiss if I ate the sweet stuff you bought"

"Oh yeah…thanks for reminding me," and she leaned up and kissed him.

* * *

"My mum used to catch me," she said afterwards. They were sitting together on the ground on Kevin's jacket, him still without his mask, but it set where he could locate it easily enough, looking up at the sky for no particular reason.

"What?"

"You asked what possessed me to jump when I jumped from the swing. It's because my mum used to catch me when I was little, so I still jump even though she's not here anymore…just habit now."

He'd almost forgotten that her mother was dead too. It was strange to have that in common.

"How old were you when she died?"

"Eight…I was nearly six when she first got ill though"

"How did she die?"

"Breast cancer," Theresa shrugged, "I remember thinking it was funny when her hair started falling out," she looked at him out of the corner of her eye and caught the look he was giving her, "Did I mention that I was six at the time? Anyway, it went into remission a few times, then it came back full force and there was nothing they could do. We went on a lot of trips in the last year. It was like…trying to fit all the trips you ever make in your life into one year."

Oddly, she didn't seem sad. Well, not completely sad. She seemed quite content though her tone was sad.

"What kind of places did you go?"

"Everywhere. Greece, Rome, Venice, and Paris, you can do a lot on weekend trips, you know…all the places people always plan on going to but never go. And then she was too ill to travel that far and we did the things around London you never do because you live here and forget they're there."

She watched an airplane go past, or the lights of it anyway

"It's funny. All the places we went and things we did and my best memories are cuddling with her on her bed listening to her read or sing to me,"

"There's a saying that simple memories are sometimes the best,"

"That's probably true…can't hear 'you are my sunshine' without feeling sad though"

"…Will it upset you if I ask why?"

She shrugged and leaned against him with a small but contented sigh before she said: "I'm not upset. It's a song mum used to sing for me when I was little, said it applied to me quite a lot."

"That's…nice."

There was silence for awhile…a little more kissing here and there but mostly silence and simple cuddling.

Then Theresa asked: "You really don't have ANY good memories of your dad?"

"It was all training and long, very long, boring lessons. I just remember him as something akin to a dictator."

"Was he raised the same way?"

"What're you getting at?" he glowered at her without realising he was doing so.

"I'm just saying," she said softly, shifting against his shoulder slightly, "don't get angry."

"I don't WANT to feel sympathy for my father, Theresa. It's easier to hate him"

"I'm just pointing out that if he hadn't raised you that way, probably the same way he was raised or similar, you probably wouldn't be a top wrestler, you wouldn't've been able to save Banksy, we probably wouldn't've met and I wouldn't be here in the park with you right now."

"I thought you didn't believe in fate?"

"I don't. That's just a parallel theory."

"Sounds like a belief in fate…"

"I don't think I was fated to meet you, that just sounds naff and too much like a bad pick-up line."

Hmm, he had to agree with her on that. A LOT of fangirls (and one of two male fans) had twittered on about him running into them being a sign of fate or destiny that they were supposed to meet and be together. It was oddly refreshing that Theresa didn't do that. It seemed to him that she liked him, was happy and probably flattered that he'd asked and taken her out but as far as she was concerned, he'd asked her out of his own freewill and didn't think any unseen and unspecified forces or deities had anything to do with it.

"Speaking of how we were raised…your grandfather…"

"What about him?"

"Is he a hippie?" just wanting to confirm that mild suspicion.

"He was," she nodded with a smile, "free love and everything until just after he met my grandmother and 'fell totally and completely into a groovy kind of love, man'…his words, not mine," she added, seeing him open his mouth and then she kissed him again.

This was really becoming a habit for the two of them but once they'd had one interrupted kiss the rest seemed to follow easily and it was hard to stop.

Until…

"…Kev…what's the time?"

"Now?!"

"Yes! What time is it?"

"…9.45"

"I have curfew in 15 minutes,"

"…break it" he muttered, leaning down for another kiss but meeting Theresa's palm instead.

"Tempting…" she replied, flexing her fingers and tapping the bridge of his nose in a slightly playful gesture, "Really, _really_ tempting…but take me home before Gramps starts to worry."

"Are you always a stickler for the rules?" he asked, as the stood up and retrieved his jacket and put his mask back on.

"The only real rule is 'as long as I don't hurt myself or anyone else'…but Gramps makes it pretty clear that hurting myself and others can encompass anything and everything."

"Such as?"

"Such as if I'm late home I hurt Gramps by making him worry and hurt myself by losing some of his trust which'll make him worry more if I'm late again…you see how that works?"

"I suppose…he's rather lax with you"

He meant it as a joke, it wasn't very good, but she quickly picked up on it, smiled and with a mock-haughty toss of her head replied:

"Not all of us can be raised by wrestling dictators."

"Touché"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ see, very relaxed, if kind of short, chapter…don't worry, I'm working on something interesting for the next one, right now I just want them to actually enjoy this date, I'm not so cruel that I can't manage that._

_**Musical References:**__ mostly got sacrificed in the name of plot, however…chapter title is by Rise Against (you should look it up, it's a good song) and 'You are my Sunshine'_


	23. Riddle Box

_**Kevin: **__I suppose you're all expecting a chapter. Well, forget it. I've finally dealt with the author. She's not going to be posting any more trash about my private life, so you can all just…_

_**Author: **__(Off-screen)__I'M FREE! Whoohoo! (enters scene equipped with an iMac)…Kevin, Get. Away. From. The Story._

_**Kevin:**__ Never! I'm not putting up with this insult anymore!_

_**Author:**__ But the story's not over yet! C'mon, there's emotional stuff to go over!_

_**Kevin:**__ Find someone else to bother and leave __my __private life ALONE!_

_**Author:**__ Are you just upset about what happens in this chapter?_

_**Kevin:**__ (suspicious) THIS chapter?_

_**Author:**__ You haven't read it yet?_

_**Kevin:**__ No…_

_**Author:**__ (posts it quickly!) Yays! Enjoy peoples!_

**Slight Warning: There's some mild naughtiness here, Mostly because Kevin has a dirty, dirty mind.**

_**Kevin:**__ I do not!_

_**Theresa:**__ Diiiiiiirty. You're dirty (giggles gently)_

**Author: **_Yeah, anyway, enough of this. On with the story _

* * *

"…but you should believe in fate. It's what life's all about."

Kevin didn't remember how they'd got onto this topic, he vaguely remembered teasing her once more about not believing in fate and now…

Now they were debating about whether or not fate could be said to exist. This musician was turning out to have quite a valid argument on the disbelief of fate. He wondered if it came from being raised by hippies. _('__Former__ hippies'_ his mind reminded)

He'd been…friends…with Theresa for a few months. Christmas and New Year had been and gone, the winter was behind them and spring was finally making an appearance. Which was why he was in the Chappen's back garden sitting on the low wall and watching as Theresa knelt on the ground and carefully pulled weeds from her herb patch, getting it ready for this year's growing season and to remove dead plants to make room for anything new she wanted to plant. He'd offered to help but once it'd been realised that, as a well-bred upper class English gentleman wrestler, he actually couldn't tell the difference between a herb she wanted to keep and a weed she wanted pulled out of the ground (she'd thrown a fit when he'd almost pulled up her mint plant by mistake) it'd been suggested that he just sit and talk to her instead. Today was quite muggy and almost too warm to move, as Banksy was demonstrating by sleeping in some shade near the garden fence.

"No," she shook her head; an undefined plant held in one gloved hand, "Fate's just an illusion we've given ourselves to help us accept our place in the world. It's a false ideology so that we can live the lives we're told to lead rather than choose from the multiples that're available to us. If such a thing as fate existed we'd just be moving from birth to death with only an illusion of the freewill because the time and nature of our death would've already been decided at the birth of the universe."

"Who's to say it wasn't?"

"Quantum Theorists for one," she dropped the plant into a biodegradable bag for recyclable wastes, "Parallel universe theory states that there's an infinite number of outcomes for every eventuality at any given moment, that means we can never know what'll happen."

"But what about God? You should believe in God, you're part angel, but that aside, the point of God is that it knows everything that is happening in every reality even as they're constantly splitting and creating more."

"Fate or no fate, we've only got one life to lead"

"Maybe, or maybe we have many. Maybe we're the dream of a sleeping angel"

"I think I'd know if we were, don't you?" she smiled in a playful way and tossed a small amount of earth at him, the few dark specks landing on his jeans before he brushed them away, "I wouldn't've taken you for someone who believed in fate, you know."

"It's my destiny to be the greatest wrestler in the world"

"Is it? Or is that just what you've been told you should be?"

"Well, either way, this universe could implode tonight and fate could be the last of our worries"

"Could do," she agreed, wiping her face and, subsequently, smearing some dirt across her face (he mentally slapped himself for thinking it looked endearing) "but in an infinite number of realities it won't, so we might as well assume it's not going to, which will be a good thing because I promised Micky I'd go to the pictures with him and his new boyfriend tomorrow."

Hmph…Micky.

He always felt…he didn't know what (Jealous? He mind suggested before he quashed it) but this feeling came up whenever Theresa mentioned her friend.

Then a word from that last sentence she'd uttered offered itself up for attention. Hold on…

"Boyfriend?" he asked, blinking at her.

"Yep," she nodded, and then tugged up another weed, "his name's Cantacasa and I _have_ to meet him because he makes Micky's heart go pitter-patter,"

"Hold on…you are seriously telling me that your friend Micky is…"

"Gay as a picnic basket. So what?"

"You didn't mention that before"

"Didn't think it was important," she just shrugged and went back to her gardening, planting another herb, a mint on this time, in the earth.

Not important…He supposed he could understand that. She hadn't kept it from him because she didn't trust him, she just didn't think it was worth mentioning.

What sort of girl had he found here?

"Want a lolly?" she asked, sitting back again and wiping her face, smearing more dirt across her nose and cheeks, "I'm guessing you're roasting under your mask and, as usual, you're not telling me."

"Is that a not so subtle attempt to get me to take my mask off?"

"Is that your way of avoiding taking it off? Not like I'm going to tell on you."

This was true, in total she'd seen him without his mask maybe 10 times in the last six months and thought nothing of it, nor had any trashy stories appeared in trashy tabloids about him turning up drunk on her doorstep that time or about him sleeping in her bed.

It was strange and maybe a little scary to realise that he actually trusted her. The last person he'd trusted had been Lord Flash and look how that'd ended up!!

But Theresa was right…it was bloody roasting under his mask, it was only mental conditioning that made him keep it on.

* * *

Theresa always found it fascinating when Kevin took his mask off; it was quite easy to forget that he had a face under there after all.

It was like the opposite of a Kafka story every time it happened. (Her mother had, completely innocently, read 'The Metamorphosis' to Theresa as a child, and made her too scared to sleep for nearly a month, but at least it made her sound clever when thinking up metaphors now)

There it was, blue eyes, tiny freckles across his nose and the picture completed by the strands of hair sticking to the pinked skin of his face. It was a cute sight but she refrained from saying so. He didn't seem to enjoy being called cute. It was probably because of all the fangirls yelling 'you're so cute!' at top volume during matches.

"Told you," she said instead, "your hair's sticking to your face", without thinking about it too much she pushed it back out of his eyes and absently wiped her hand on her jeans afterwards.

"And this fashion advice from the lady in hole-riddled clothes with dirt across her nose?" he quirked an eyebrow at her, only teasing.

"S'good for you,' Theresa told him, tugging her gardening gloves off and sitting beside him on the wall, "there's women who pay a lot of money to have dirt smeared on their faces in beauty salons and they pay for the stuff in little packets at the supermarket."

"How do you know that? You don't buy any of it." He knew because he'd bought her some over Christmas, on the advice he'd casually rung from those he could just about stand to be around in the Muscle League, because apparently girls liked things to make themselves pretty. She'd thanked him, naturally but had politely asked him never to buy her any more because she didn't use it and she didn't want him to spend his hard earned money on her. Still, it'd earned him a kiss for trying so it hadn't been too bad.

"No, but I buy shampoo, it's in the same aisle…anyway! There's a pomegranate and raspberry lolly in the freezer with my name on it!"

* * *

"It's pink…" he said, staring dubiously at the frozen confection. Actually, it was leaning more towards red but it was still mostly pink. Truthfully, the colour wasn't the problem

"It's good," Theresa told him before sucking her lolly

…that was the problem, right there. It was giving him ideas that really shouldn't be in his head. She was a nice girl, it felt…wrong to think of her doing anything as obscene as…

Kevin mentally shook himself; she was only eating an iced lolly! Not anything bad!

"Don't you want yours?" she asked, breaking across his thoughts, nodding to the one he held, it was untouched, "you can just put it back if you don't" before giving her lolly a long leisurely lick with her tongue.

He found it hard to believe she was so innocent that she couldn't work out what it looked like…He looked down at the lolly in his hand,

"It…" he swallowed slightly as she stuck her tongue out to catch some drops of juice, "It's fine…"

"You're sure?"

"Yes!" as if to prove it her stuffed the iced confection into his mouth, whole and swallowed it straight from the plastic stick. After a few seconds a pain started up in his head and he winced.

OK…Bad idea!

"Gave yourself brainfreeze," Theresa said, pressing a warm palm right against where the pain was coming from, "you twit"

Normally he took offence at things like that, but the way she'd said it made it sound affectionate rather than an actual admonishment.

'I think I'm going soft if I think this sort of thing is sweet,' he thought to himself, trying not to lean into the touch, even though it was helping the ache. Here he was sitting on garden steps, with a brainfreeze from swallowing an ice-lolly whole to get his mind off a girl who now had her hand pressed against his head to help get rid of it…and he though it was sweet that she'd called him a twit.

"Better?" she asked, concerned, bringing him back to reality.

"Much," he mumbled and before either of them could move, he found them locked together at the mouth. Who'd initiated it? He couldn't say and found that he couldn't really bring himself to care.

The slap hit him so hard it felt as though it actually rattled his teeth.

"The heck you doing?!" Theresa demanded, and for the first time he realised he'd somehow got his hands under her shirt. "Let go!"

"I'm…sorry?" he managed, actually stunned at both Theresa's reaction and himself for not realising what he was doing. "I didn't realise I was doing that. It won't happen again."

"Really?"

"I promise, I won't touch you again."

Then she surprised him again…by starting to cry.

"But I WANTED you to!" she sobbed into her hands

O-kay. This was something new. This was actually the opposite of how things normally happened. He'd never had someone cry because they wanted him to touch them. Crying because they were upset that he didn't want to, that was the norm.

Why was she crying if they both wanted it?

He could work that out later, right now he needed to work out how to make her stop crying long enough for him to find out.

"Don't cry," he said softly, gently pulling her down onto his lap and hugging her gently, "please don't cry."

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Who knew Kevin had a sweet and cuddly side to him? Lookit him, so cute! Insert's 'awww' track here Got to wonder what's bothering Theresa though. Maybe we'll find out in the next chapter!_

_**Kevin:**__ NEXT chapter? Are you DETERMINED to ruin my reputation?!_

_**Author:**__ I'm not ruining anything. People like the hidden sides of you. You just be quiet and hug your girlfriend like a good boy and let me write the next chapter._

_**Kevin:**__ (blushes) She's…she's NOT my girlfriend!_

_**Author:**__ He says whilst she's sitting on his lap._

_**Kevin:**__ She's not! We're just…_

_**Author:**__ You realise if you end that sentence with 'We're just good friends', I'm legally obliged under British Writer's law to hit you over the head with a chair for malicious use of cliché?_

_**Kevin:**__ (goes quiet for once)_

_**Musical references:**__ Riddle Box by Insane Clown Posse_


	24. I'll Be Your Distraction

_**Author's Note:**__ OK, I'm sorry this took such a long time. I haven't lost interest, just a lot of stuff's been happening to me, college, grades, I got graduated, that kind of thing…right now I'm getting ready to go on holiday for a few days. Anyway, enough about that, here's the next chapter. _

_Enjoy._

_**Kevin:**__ Is THAT all you have to say? Good grief, woman. You've left them hanging for weeks and when you FINALLY post up a chapter it's 'I'm going on holiday now so I can't write the next chapter right away'. You call THAT dedication?_

_**Author:**__ I thought you hated me writing about you anyway?_

_**Kevin:**__ ……_

* * *

After the initial sob of despair, Theresa had gone quiet, though somehow he knew that she was still crying. The shoulder of his shirt was damp with her tears.

He was doing his best to comfort her but since he'd never done this kind of thing before, never been around a girl who was crying for more than 5 seconds, it felt like the blind leading the blind.

For a long time they didn't speak, this was another thing becoming a habit, he felt, and all he could hear was the slight hum of traffic, his own breathing and heartbeat as both quickened up at having Theresa nestled so closely against him and the faint music from the radio playing from the kitchen windowsill. It gave him something to focus on anyway.

"_So hear this please,_

_And watch as your heart speeds up endlessly,_

_And look for the stars as the sun goes down._

_Each breath that you take has a thunderous sound._

_Everything, everything's magic"_

"I haven't cried like that since Gran died" Theresa said suddenly raising her head and wiping her eyes roughly with the heel of her hand, "Sorry, I think I got your shirt wet…I feel silly now."

She didn't look as if she'd been crying…there were tear tracks but her eyes weren't red like a normal person's…he wondered if that was an angelical trait.

"Are you feeling better?"

"…I suppose…and I still feel silly for crying…it's a stupid thing to cry about…stupid…"

"…want to talk about it?" He couldn't believe he was asking that. He didn't usually care enough…maybe it was just an effect of having someone cry on his shoulder making him feel he should ask.

"Not really," she shook her head, breaking out of his hold and standing up, smoothing down her shirt, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him, "It's my demon; I'll deal with it by myself."

Interesting to know. When DIDN'T a woman want to talk about a problem? Then again it wasn't his business…which was why he was surprised to hear himself saying:

"Come on, let's go somewhere, I'll take you" before he'd had time to consider a solution (the subconscious is a fickle bitch at times, it really is)

Theresa blinked at him, obviously as surprised as he was at the suggestion that'd come out of his mouth.

* * *

"Now?" was all she could think to say, the look on Kevin's face once the words were out showed they weren't what he'd intended to say.

"Why not?" he asked, with a much-too-nonchalant shrug

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?"

"…Yes?"

"Time to move into the shade, I think you're suffering from heat exhaustion"

"I'm not…I'm just…"

She sighed, suddenly realising what this was about, "…Kevin, you don't have to do things for me just because you think you made me cry."

"I don't?"

"No," she brushed his fringe away from his forehead unthinkingly, "I told you, it's my problem, my emotional baggage, not yours. I'll deal with it by myself"

"Are you saying that I didn't make you cry by…touching you?"

"Kind of…can we _please_ not go into it? I'm not comfortable talking about this…Not now."

She'd never remember afterwards how they'd ended up out of the garden, it was as if she blinked and suddenly they were in an alley beside a bike. She wondered if someone was messing with time and space, because she'd managed to change her clothes during this blanking out of her memory.

"Whose bike is this?" she asked, looking the machine over. From what she'd gleaned from Gramps' knowledge of all things motorised, this was a REALLY good bike.

"It's mine," Kevin told her, "my vehicle of choice"

"I wondered how you got around, just assumed you ran everywhere."

"But the bike goes with the 'lone rebel' persona, don't you agree?"

"I suppose…a bad boy bike for a 'bad boy'…typical"

"Prepare for the best and the fastest ride" he told her, helping her onto the bike,

"No helmet?"

"I don't need one," he tapped his mask, it clanged "and I've never had a passenger before so I don't have one spare. You'll be alright, just sit back and hold on, but hold on _**tight**_"

"I'm telling you now, if we crash and I die, I'm going to come back and haunt you and it is going to be _**horrible**_!"

"I'm shaking," he laughed, jumping on and taking the handlebars before starting the engine, which roared into life with a well-maintained sound.

Theresa smacked his shoulder lightly before wrapping her arms firmly around his waist, feeling oddly secure despite the lack of helmet, "Shut up and drive"

"I don't take orders"

But a second later he'd started off out on the road, out of London and Theresa just barely had time to think: _"I really, REALLY hope the police aren't doing one of their 'traffic calming/scam tourists for money' days today"_ before it was replaced with the much shallower but more primitive thought of: _"God, he smells good…" _and an instinctive tighter hugging of Kevin. (Who, notably, didn't put up any complaint.)

* * *

Since motorbikes don't do traffic jams, or at least, any motorbike driven by Kevin Mask doesn't do traffic jams, the impromptu journey was, fairly short, or so it seemed to Theresa, then again she supposed it would seem short, since her eyes hand been closed for the majority of it.

The first thing to strike her was the smell of the ocean, salt and seaweed, sand and rotting fish…with the vague smells of fried food.

That all added up to one thing…she opened her eyes and her suspicions were confirmed.

"The beach…you took us to the beach"

"It's a nice day and it's fairly quiet here, being off season"

This was true, in typical seaside town fashion the streets and beach were fairly quiet, save some of the locals frequenting the shops and cafes and a few dogs fetching sticks or driving into the sea.

"Ah, the ulterior motive: less fan girls to bother you" she grinned at him, as she got down off the back of the bike, "can I kidnap _you_ next time? I'll drive us somewhere nice, I swear."

"You can't drive…can you?"

"Can't drive a motorbike but I can drive a car. Passed both my theory and my practical last time you were in Japan"

"Really?"

"Yeah, my license is in my purse…" she went to her pocket for it before he stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

"Don't worry, I believe you. So…now that we're here, what do you want to do with the time?"

"What else do you do at the seaside?" she asked, eyes shining in pleading, "let's find an arcade and play some video games!!"

* * *

Video games? Kevin had never thought Theresa was the type who played video games; he hadn't seen a system in her house…unless she had a hand-held system somewhere.

Still, he would've thought she'd ask to go walking on the beach, not that he was complaining! The first thing he'd done when he'd run away from home was to locate an arcade and play. Two of them at the same time, actually.

"Alright," he nodded.

…

Approximately ten minutes later, he was stunned to see that Theresa (peaceful, pacifist and hippy-raised) was expertly shooting the living hell out of hoards of pixellated zombies, leaving them a twitching oozing mess on the 'floor', shot after skilled shot.

Eventually, she got to enter her name into the number one position in the high scores table.

"How on earth did you do that?" he asked incredulously as she put the 'gun' back in the holster on the machine's front.

"I just shoot from the hip and aim for the head,"

"I meant how did you get so good at this game?"

"Oh! There's this arcade on St John's Street, not for from the school I go to…Micky and I go there when we don't have extra curricular activities keeping us busy. House of the Dead is my favourite arcade game…that and pinball"

"I thought angels didn't like violence" he asked, leading her outside to lean on the metal fence over looking the beach.

"I don't,"

"But you like to play a violent video game…"

Theresa rolled her eyes at him and, grabbing the top bar with both hands, leaned backwards a little.

"I can see where this is going. You're going to say 'how can I play violent video games when I call what you do for a living a blood sport.' I can tell the difference between real life and a video game. One of them is just pixels on a screen, it's not actually hurting anyone, no one really dies, it's pretend. What you do…," she pulled herself forward again, "you get hurt, you wind up in the hospital, there's a very real chance you could be badly hurt or killed…and people pay to see it! THAT'S why I think of it as a blood sport"

He digested this…

"So, why do you waste all your time with me?"

"You really don't know?"

Embarrassed he shook his head

"Because you're you and I like you."

"But I'm part of a 'blood sport', remember?"

"Just because I don't like what you do for a living doesn't mean I don't like _you."_

She paused, watched the sea for a little while then said, quietly…

"I think I like today"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Calm before the storm, people, calm before the storm…something else will happen, but for now, I'm gonna leave 'em in peace._

_**Musical References:**__ 'Everything's Magic' and 'Good Day' by Angels and Airwaves, '"Hey Leonardo (She Likes Me for Me) by Blessed Union of Souls, Shut up and Drive' by Rhianna and 'Aim for the Head' by Creature Feature_


	25. Such Horrible Things

_**Author's Note:** Here it is, the next chapter. This took FOREVER to write 'cos it's one of the more dramatic ones, but I'm kind of pleased with it.  
_

_**Kevin:** Get ON with it!_

_**Author: **Fine! Fine! Demand away, I'm done here._

* * *

It would've been nice to say that their day went completely uninterrupted. It would've been lovely for them to spend the day at the beach peacefully and unbothered.

It would've been very nice, but completely untrue because sometimes you're just not that lucky at all.

The day had gone well enough since the video game matter, they really hadn't moved along the beach much, mostly just talking and generally, acting like the teenagers they were (Kevin was definitely getting better at the whole 'teenager' thing) until they found a video shop and Theresa dragged him inside. It took maybe two minutes before he began browsing the DVD's on sale along side her.

"Hey darling, do you love me?" Theresa suddenly asked

"What?!"

"Darling do you love me?" she repeated, looking up from the rack of DVD's she was searching though.

"I…uh…That is…" Damn, this was awkward! Well…DID he love her? He didn't know! Not yet! It's too soon! Wait, WHY am I even CONSIDERING that I MIGHT be?!

"Um…Kevin…" Theresa held out a DVD case to him and then it made sense. _**'Darling, Do You Love Me? & Other Short Films'**_ was written in bold red letters against a black background. She hadn't been asking for a declaration, she'd been quoting a film title.

"Oh," he said lamely, and then quickly cleared his throat, "What is it?"

"An art film from the 1960's, I think it's about how some women will just badger a man until he gives in, I'm not totally certain though. Germaine Greer's in it"

"I think I know the name…"

"She's the woman who pretty much led the feminist movement of the 1970's single-handed, at least in some people's minds. But she's the one that said I don't have to wear knickers if I don't want to"

He paused, trying to keep some mental images that were trying to form at bay; instead he ended up giving her an odd sort of look.

"I am _wearing_ knickers," she told him dryly, resting one hand on her hip.

"Th-thank you for sharing!"

"You're welcome!" She grinned up at him cheekily, before turning her attention back to the item in her hands, "Oh cool, the Brothers Quay are in this! Ooh, and it's 'The Street of Crocodiles'…It's only £2? Ugh, some people just don't understand art!"

"You're very strange, do you know that?"

"Know it and revel in it. I'm getting this," she tapped the case of 'Darling, Do you Love Me?' again, "anything caught your eye?"

…_Yes…the fact that the top button on your shirt is undone… _"Not really. I don't usually have time for films"

"OK, I'll be back in a second,"

"I…could pay for it for you"

"Hm? No, it's OK. I've got it."

She gave him a bright smile and headed over to the counter, far at the back of the shop, to pay for it.

No buying her things, no wanting to talk about her problems, no nauseating nicknames, no mindless fawning or trying to get a declaration of love from him.

He didn't know whether to feel pleased or disappointed, to be honest and, despite himself, he was starting to wonder if it was because she wasn't very interested in him in any capacity (despite her referring to him as her friend on more than one occasion and having told him she liked him)…it felt odd to be on the receiving end of such a feeling.

"OK, we can go now," Theresa suddenly said, a small bag in one hand, "unless you found something you wanted?"

…_Maybe…Oh wait…she means film-wise…_

"No, I'm fine, let's go."

Maybe things could've continued in this peaceful way…but fate's a bitch and as such the timing they chose to step out of the shop and stand by the fence was horrible.

A few minutes of banter then there was an odd rumble, as if of lots of feet.

"IT'S KEVIN MASK!!"

"OH MY GOD!"

"Oh no…" he recognised that sort of call. What on EARTH were fangirls doing HERE?! _((The author whistles innocently and backs away to hide behind her computer))_

"Fangirls?" Theresa asked, eyes widening at the group of rapidly approaching girl. It seemed almost surreal…or like that opening scene of Austin Powers.

"I'm sorry…" he whispered quickly

"Don't be, it's not your fault. Just go man! Run!" and she pointed down the street, "think like a fox in a hunt!"

"You're an angel"

"You know it!"

Less than a second later he was off…the rabid fans on his heels (and would be until they found something else to drool over or got bored or lost)

And what've Theresa during Kevin's bolting away?

Well, Never having been around fangirls and having no knowledge of how deadly they are, she'd got knocked off the rail, of the fence she'd been sitting on, whether by accident or on purpose she had absolutely no clue and no time to work it out, or even scream as she fell down onto the mix of rocks and sand below.

There was an organic sounding SNAP a few seconds later as she landed, using her arm to shield herself from the worst of the blow that followed.

"Ow…" was all she said as she sat up and the pain exploded in her arm, since it was hanging at an odd angle, she came to the conclusion it was likely broken, vaguely she held it up and shook it, then decided that wasn't a good idea, it hurt.

"OK, that's not good…" she said aloud and carefully pushed herself up to her feet, feeling more than little giddy and sick, her DVD was intact, which wasn't a big deal but nice to know she supposed. Taking a few deep breaths to dull down the pain, she managed to get to the steps and climb them, walking into a newsagent's and ask if could she please use the phone because she needed to call her grandfather to come and pick her up…

…And possibly take her to the hospital, if it wasn't a problem?

…Did it look like her arm was broken, did they think?

…Umm…did they say if it was OK for her to use their phone, please?

…_I hope Kevin's OK…_

* * *

_Hospitals…I __**hate**__ hospitals… _Kevin thought to himself much later as he sat in the waiting room outside of the plastering room that currently contained Theresa and the plaster technicians.

Theresa had a broken arm, courtesy of him. Most men gave girls they were interested in flowers or presents. What did Theresa end up with? A bloody broken arm!

The guilt was really gnawing at him, pointing out things like he hadn't taken her to the beach it wouldn't have happened (the doctor had said it was a clean and minor break but try telling your conscience that)

'She's always getting hurt around me. I'm bad for her health. This time she broke an arm, what if she gets hurt worse next time? Fatally?

There's not going to BE a next time! This…whatever it is…it's over! It's for her safety.

_What about you?_

What **about **me?

_Is that __**really **__what you want? You really want to walk away and never see her again because 'maybe she'll get hurt' whilst being around you? _

I don't care about what I want; I care about not having her death on my hands.

_You know, it's very unlike you to think so deeply about other people._

She's not-

_Not what…?_

She's not 'people'. She's…

_She's…?_

She's my…

_Come on! Just say it! You'll feel better if you'll just admit it! She's…_

"All done now," someone announced, breaking the thought before he could complete it. One of the orderlies led Theresa out with a hand on her shoulder. She looked…exhausted but better than when she'd been brought in, her right arm was in plaster and a cloth sling.

"Kevin!" she called loudly but apparently happily and all but threw herself onto his front and cuddled tightly, holding on with her good arm before announcing, "I'm so happy to see you!!"

"Are you alright?" this was and odd way for someone who'd broken an arm to act around the one responsible for it.

"Uh huh…" she nodded and tried to snuggle closer as if wanting to burrow under his skin.

"It's the painkillers," the orderly explained, "she'll be a little loopy until it wears off"

"I am _not_ loopy, just happy," the blonde girl protested then ruined her argument by giggling dizzily.

"Come on, we'll go and wait for your grandfather," with a cool but polite nod at the orderly he led her down to the front door waiting room.

"Nylufooh," Theresa mumbled nuzzling into his shoulder as they sat together.

"What?"

"What?" she blinked up at him, it was clearly obvious under the brighter lights of the waiting room that she was drugged up to the gills with painkillers

"Never mind."

"'kay!" she giggled again as she settled back, not really looking at anything, "thank you…"

"Hm?" Had she just thanked him? No way…

"Thank you…for taking me to the beach. It was nice. Next time we should get fish and chips before the fangirls attack…can we get some before we go home? I'm really, really hungry now."

* * *

_**Author:**__ I know, I'm being horrible. Tch, where DO I get off tormenting and hurting my characters? But did you SEE that? SOOOOO close to him admitting something! _

_Man, I really AM a bitch to you guys, huh? _

_(Hides under her bed to avoid any thrown fruit or bricks)_

_**Musical References:**__ got sacrificed in the name of plot but the title is 'Such Horrible Things' by Creature Feature. _

_BTW, 'Darling Do You Love Me?' and 'The Street of Crocodiles' are real films. You can find them on YouTube. Go look them up (they are a bit freaky but entertaining)_


	26. A Hard Day's Night

_**Author's Note:**__ I am SO sorry! I've been trying to finish this chapter for ages but I found temporary employment last month and I've been so knackered since then I've barely any energy t get upstairs and fall into bed, never mind work on this._

_Being a wage-slave sucks, quite honestly._

_**Theresa:**__ I don't mind. Gives me time to focus on revising for my exams._

_**Kevin:**__ you're not serious?_

_**Theresa:**__ I __**do**__ have a life without your presence; it's just not as interesting_

_**Author:**__ (raises an eyebrow) How long've you two been married now? _

_**Both:**__ (blush and protest)_

_**Author:**__ (ignores them both in favour of posting this chapter)_

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

It'd been three weeks since Kevin last saw Theresa, three weeks since her grandfather picked her up from the hospital in that seaside town and thanked him for taking care of his granddaughter, three weeks with a gnawing in his gut that's making it hard to sleep or train as fully as usual.

Undoubtedly he was still the IWF's top wrestler, winning every match no matter how big, ugly or combination thereof his opponent may be, but it was as if he'd doing it on automatic, he doesn't stick around long enough to collect his prizes. He goes in, he fights, he wins then he leaves and goes back to whatever hotel or hostel he's staying at, showers then trains until he's exhausted, but doesn't sleep for longer than a catnap.

He wouldn't admit it, but he missed Theresa and her non-fangirl attitude, missed the conversations about things besides wrestling and the relaxed atmosphere her home has…and he _really _missed her hugs and kisses.

Three weeks…and he had withdrawal symptoms pretty badly.

It'll pass.

He's Kevin Mask!

A lone wolf!

He doesn't need anyone!

He doesn't need to be distracted by sheltered orphans with a hippie outlook on life who treat him like a friend and look after him when he's completely inebriated and…

This wasn't really helping him forget all about her

Another week and she'd be just a memory, if even that.

Another week was he needed and he'd forget all about her. The last few months won't have happened, he'd make himself believe that he's forgotten.

The mind is an interesting place that way.

He ran through London, along the streets. It was raining and the rain was cold even though it was getting on towards summer.

The streets were quiet, as days like this in the city tend to be, people ducking into cafes or shops to hide from the weather and street merchants are selling cheap umbrellas, any shade of tartan you want! Only £1 each!

He wondered what she was doing…

No, no he didn't!

She was probably getting on with her life and not sparing him a thought, like he was doing with her.

He shouldn't be sparing her any thought; he had to train for tomorrow. He needed to focus on that.

Very vaguely, he wondered if she even knew about it…

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

…_Wherein hope is not merely quenched, but completely destroyed as the 'establishment' knowingly turns an individual into another mindless cog of their vast power-hungry empire. Orwell gives us the anti-hero of Winston Smith, a forty-something information worker whose job it is to change history and this just might be the fight of the century, sportsfans!_

…

Wait, what? That wasn't right! Where had THAT come from?

_Delete…Delete…Delete!_

Theresa looked up from her English essay, rudely dragged away from her train of thought as her mind realised and relayed the fact that the television was on in the living room downstairs, which was a little odd since it was just her and Banksy until Gramp's finished work.

With a sigh she saved her work, closed the lid of her laptop computer and headed downstairs to find the cause and to switch the television off.

It took her less than a minute to find out what'd happened: Banksy was lying on the sofa, the control wedged trapped firmly under one paw as he chewed at his claws, occasionally hitting the volume buttons, which explained why it was so loud.

"Banksy, bad dog," she scolded gently, taking the controls away, ignoring the television and the sports broadcast that was on, but remembering to turn it down before her ears began to bleed, "you know you're not allowed on the sofa. Come on, get down"

The dog just yawned, blinked at her and settled comfortably into the cushions.

"Daft canine," she tutted. Well, there really wasn't any harm in letting him stay there; she'd just have to hoover up later.

"…_let's take a look at his last few fights!"_

Oh yeah…turn the television off and get back to her essay, her final grade for A-Level English was depending on this one.

"_So Doc, what do you think Kevin Mask's chances are for this home-ground match here in merry old London?"_

Kevin? Kevin was still in London? Theresa blinked in surprise, she hadn't seen him since the day she'd broken her arm; she'd assumed he'd gone back to Japan for one fight or another…still in London though and he hadn't been to visit her in that time?

"_Well Mac, looking back at how his other matches have gone, I'd say he's got a pretty good chance. He's been training non-stop though he's been acting kind of strange these last few weeks compared to how he normally acts after fight"_

"_Well, let's take a look at the tapes, Doc"_

The television showed clips of Kevin during matches. Outwardly he looked all right, but despite the mask there were…signs that he wasn't quite himself, he moved almost mechanically as if he wasn't really thinking about his actions or how he fought and he didn't even stop to collect any of the prizes he won for it or to play to the crowd (not that he usually played to the crowd but she had no way of knowing that)

Theresa could only think one thing: _'He looks SO tired…I hope he's OK'_

…which was swiftly followed by the thought_: 'Why hasn't he been to see me if he's still in London?"_ and a feeling of hurt that she couldn't shake.

'_So what' _she thought as she boiled the kettle and made ginger and lemongrass tea to try and get rid of the hurt feeling_ 'Not like he's obligated to come and see me just because he's in London. I don't fancy him and he doesn't fancy me…right? _

'_OK,' _minutes later, seated at her desk with her laptop once moreshe mused on it a bit longer,_ ' so maybe I don't give out kisses…a LOT of kisses… to every bloke but that's not exactly a claim marker that means I have all the rights to his person and time. After all, a man said to the universe: "Sir I exist!" and the universe replied: "However, that fact has not created in me a sense of obligation.' In other words he's not obligated to come and see me just because we're both in London right now'_

In the end, she saved her essay. It was, in her opinion, complete and utter rubbish but at least it was rubbish that sounded vaguely like she knew what she was talking about. At some point, she found that Banksy had taken up residence on her bed once more, so she flopped down next to him, as was her habit, and lightly scratched him behind one floppy black ear.

"I think I have serious mental problems, Banks."

She found it easy to talk to Banksy since the dog would just listen (though if it made any sense to him was anyone's guess) and wouldn't judge her on anything; she may as well have been Jack the Ripper and Banksy wouldn't care as long as she kept on providing food, warmth and tummy rubs in abundance.

In response to her statement, Banksy moved and laid his head on her stomach, tilting it slightly to get her to scratch in the right place, and huffed a little before closing his eyes in bliss as his owner poured out some doubts and confusions, there weren't many but getting them off her chest drained her out.

She must've fallen asleep at some point because she jolted awake when the phone rang, loudly, in the hall. She noted the sun was starting to set briefly as she hurried down to answer it. fallen asleep at some point because she jolted awake when the phone rang, loudly, in the hall. She noted the sun was starting to set briefly as she hurried down to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Good evening, I'm sorry to bother you so late but could I please speak to…Theresa Chappen?"

"Speaking…"

Who was this? It didn't sound like anyone she or Gramps knew.

"I'm calling on behalf of Blackheath hospital. You're listed as a contact for a patient…"

She gasped audibly, all kinds of horrors going through her head, mainly: 'OH MY GOD! Has something happened to Gramps?!'

"A Mr…Kevin Mask?" the voice continued, oblivious to her thoughts

…Kevin? In the hospital? How? When? His match…had he lost that badly? Holy hell!

"…Miss Chappen?"

"Yes…I'm…I'm here…"

"If you wouldn't mind, is it possible for you to come down to the hospital now?"

"Um…do you have directions? And I just need to leave my grandfather a note so he won't worry if I'm not here when he comes home but yes, certainly, I'll…I'll be there as soon as I can"

_Kevin, what kind of trouble did you get yourself into…?_

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

He felt like crap.

No, he felt worse than crap. He felt HUMILITATED.

Collapsed after he left the ring…exhaustion finally catching up with him…three weeks of almost constant training and little sleep taking their toll.

Now here he was, maskless and forced to stay in a damned hospital bed. Easy tabloid fodder, he could just imagine the headlines.

"No interviews," he growled (or tried to) at a figure he suddenly noticed out of the corner of his eye.

"Well then it's a good thing I left my notebook at home on my desk with my books and my essay, isn't it?"

"Theresa…?"

"Oh you DO remember me then," she came in, wearing a smile that didn't reach her eyes and a shirt proclaiming '_**This Is My Clone'**_, and yes, her arm in plaster (though it was slightly grubby and covered in 'get well' messages from her friends now) and sat on the bottom of his bed without preamble, her keys jangled in her bag as she did so, "was beginning to wonder if you'd forgotten me."

"Why…? How did you know I was here?"

"Apparently you put me down as your contact on that 'in case of emergency' card in your wallet. This was an emergency so here I am. Had to show three different types of ID to get in here."

"…Oh…"

They sat in awkward silence which he quickly came to realise he neither liked nor wanted.

"…you should leave" he said finally, when the silence became deafening.

"Excuse me?"

"Leave. Before you get hurt…"

"Which one of us in the hospital bed?" she gestured from herself to him and back again.

"Just go" He suddenly felt the exhaustion tugging at him and lay back, half hoping she'd leave him alone, though the other half was sort of wishing she'd stay. He nearly jumped when he felt fingers suddenly run through his hair, he hadn't heard her move at all, it was oddly soothing and he sighed as he relaxed despite himself.

"Idiot," Theresa muttered, sounding miffed and affectionate at the same time, though she kept running her fingers through his hair, "you make it SO hard to be angry at you. Besides, I can't go anywhere until the traffic dies down, it was murder getting here in the first place."

"THAT'S why you're not leaving?" Kevin mumbled sleepily…good god that hand through his hair felt nice… "to avoid traffic?"

"Yes. That and you're my friend and I care about you. Might even be a little in love with you," her hand suddenly stilled, "did I just say that out loud?"

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_**Author:**__ way to blurt out your feelings Theresa. You're progressing well past your bad psyche._

_**Theresa:**__ (blushing furiously) I didn't mean to! I really didn't! I'm not…I can't be in love with him!_

_**Author:**__ uh huh…want me to work on the next chapter?_

_**Theresa:**__ do we resolve this issue?_

_**Author:**__ yup. You will…probably in the next three chapters or so. Promise. Anyway, back to the readers: I'm sorry but I am HORRIBLE at writing fight scenes, s'why I omitted them. Besides, there's bigger things going on than fights (points at Kevin and Theresa cough cough) _

_**Musical References:**__ just keep getting sacrificed for plot. (shakes head) but the title's from The Beatles and Peter Seller's who recites it like Laurence Olivier as Richard III_


	27. Crazy Little Thing

_**Author"s note:**__ Consider this a Christmas present. I'm very sorry this keeps taking me so long but I've been soooooo busy with work and getting presents for my family_

_**Kevin:**__ and spending time with your new boyfriend_

_**Author:**__ I know what you're doing, can all but see you smirking under that mask of yours, and I don't care. So go 'way and hug Theresa or drink tea with her. Whatever it is you do when you're not here._

_Now, on with the story!_

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

They both fell into surprised silence, her hand still in his hair.

"You…love me?" he said finally

"I didn't say that!" she defended, moving her hand and nervously wiping it on her jeans, "I…mean…there's all kinds of love, right?"

"You love me…"

"Go back to sleep," Theresa was blushing a deep scarlet, which looked awfully out of place with her pale blond hair, "you're hearing things", though she started to look towards the doorway.

'_Don't let her leave!'_ part of him shouted, _'she gets through that door you won't ever see her again and THAT prospect is what got you into this mess in the first place!'_

He reached out quickly and grabbed her wrist, without even thinking about it. Before he could even fathom what to say now, he heard himself say: "Please stay"

"You wanted me to leave a minute ago"

"That was then, this is now. I am entitled to change my mind."

"I really should go. You…you need to sleep…please let go of my wrist Kevin"

"Sing something for me" he said quickly. _WHY did I say that? Then again…she's a singer and an angel…I appealed to that_

"Help the wretched and all those angelical things," he continued smoothly.

"You're not wretched…"

"I feel it though. Sing something for me…I'll sleep if you do"

"That's blackmail…you know I can't say no…"

"No, it's a bargain"

"Ever told you I don't like you?"

"No, because that would be a lie and you don't tell lies" he actually smiled as she let herself be pulled closer to his bed and further away from the door, he grinned slightly more at the surprised look as he hefted her up onto the bed with him. He was exhausted but not that weak.

"Sing," he said, holding her firm, "anything"

"OK…_It's a small world after all!"_

"You'd BETTER be joking!"

"_Me culpa_…of course I am. Let me think…anything?"

"Anything, just…sing for me" he could heart her heartbeat; it was soothing in the most basic of ways.

"I don't think anyone would believe me if I told them you wanted a lullaby"

"The tabloids would be only too ready to believe you…"

"I don't read tabloids. They're full of rubbish, not real news. But anyway…you wanted a song…" he could all but see her searching her mind for one.

_You are a wandering shining star_

_You light up the sky you take me so far_

_One crystal inside my lonely heart_

_You light up my life, I embrace your light_

He sighed and felt himself relax at the soft tone of the song and her hands were back in his hair, whether consciously or unconsciously he didn't know and didn't really care, he just wanted it continue.

_You're my healer_

_I am lovelorn_

_In the cool breeze I hear your sweet voice_

_I'm your treasure_

_I am forlorn_

_In the rain I feel your warm tears_

He felt her move closer and sigh, almost sadly, it was quite the turn around, he thought, that now she was hugging _him_ like a stuffed toy

_I can't…forgive God…and myself_

_I should have been there _

_To give you strength…_

_To be your strength_

He didn't hear that last verse, he was deeply asleep, which was also why he didn't feel Theresa struggle, with much care not to wake him, out of his grip or really feel the small kiss she planted on his forehead before she shouldered her bag and left as fast as she could without causing a panic amongst the staff

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Theresa lay reclined in the driver seat of her Volkswagen van, where she was located at that point, she wasn't too sure. Somewhere outside of London anyway, that was all she knew

_I told him I was in love with him,_ she thought, _I can't be in love! I can't! Though technically I'm supposed to love everyone…being part angel…but I didn't mean it in that general way…I know I didn't…_

She sighed and hit her head against the headrest

This was all so very confusing…and scary and…

_When you're in love_

_You don't know much about it_

_Not in your mind_

_Romantic love_

_Rots the brain, no doubt about it_

She blinked…oh, she'd hit the radio with her foot…she wasn't in the mood for this so she pushed herself up and switched it to a different station

_You know I can't deny the way I feel inside_

_I won't be hiding my love _

_You know I can't disguise you're always on my mind _

_And now I can't get enough_

Theresa raised an eyebrow, obviously tonight was the night for love songs…Steve Wright had a lot to answer for.

Next station…

_You've been living like a little girl_

_In the middle of your little world_

_And your mind, your tiny mind_

_You know you've really been so blind_

_Now's your time, burn your mind_

_You're falling far too far behind_

_Fire, I'll take you to burn_

_Fire, I'll take you to learn_

_You're gonna burn, you're gonna burn!_

O-kay! Too far the other way!

What was with tonight?

True, she felt bad for leaving Kevin there in the hospital, but he'd been asleep…and looked so…sweet and relaxed that she'd been tempted to stay…

No

No more…she refused to fall in love. Refused to BE in love…this was one big headache…

Couldn't call Micky, he was out with Canta…

Cantacasa…she liked him, he was nice, a little nervous but nice enough.

_If Micky can find love…why shouldn't you?_

Because it's fine for Micky, Canta can't get him pregnant…or vice versa, whichever way they work it…but I'm the product of 'love' and I don't need it if he's just going to leave when it gets tough.

_You were the product of false love, it happens. Think about Gran and Gramps…THEY were in love. Right up until she passed away…maybe even now, if such things exist in Heaven. That should be your example, not what happened with your mum and your father._

_You love Kevin…say it properly_

Get off my case! Listen to me…I hate arguing with myself. If I keep it up I'll go crazy

Maybe I'm already crazy.

She switched stations absently…and promptly slumped forward, head against the steering wheel when the singer started:

_This thing called love I just can't handle it _

_This thing called love I must get round to it _

_I ain't ready _

_Crazy little thing called love!_

Some days, the universe just wasn't on your side!

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

_**Author's note**__: we'll get there; we'll get there. I promise. I'm just drawing this out a tiny bit. I just refuse to let her give in just yet. She's not easy after all._

_**Kevin:** I'll say she's not easy. She ran off when I was asleep!_

_**Author:**__ You wanted her to stay there and watch you sleep for eight hours? That's as silly as those people who stay up and watch Big Brother Live all night. Besides, they'd've kicked her out when visiting hours ended anyway._

_**Kevin:**__ Humph!_

_**Author:**__ Are you…disappointed?_

_**Kevin:**__ NO! Oh course not! Don't be silly!_

_**Author:**__ uh huh, get over it so I can write the next chapter_

_**Musical References:**__ 'Crazy Little Thing Called Love' by Queen (twice! Once in the title once at the end!) 'When You're in Love' by The Proclaimers, 'Can't Deny' by Alanis Morisette, God of Hell's Fire by Iron Butterfly and Lovelorn by Leave's Eyes_


	28. I'm Not OK

_**Author's Note:**__ Whew! Another chapter down! Sorry, these keep taking longer and longer because I have less time right now…job searching…but no one wants to hear about my troubles, do they?_

_**Kevin:**__ That's quite correct. So give the public what they want and continue the story!_

_**Author:**__ It's not too late to write in Mantaro Muscle as your surprise love-interest, Kevin. No one'll see THAT plot twist coming!_

_**Kevin:**__ !!!!!!!!!_

_**Author:**__ Now what do you say?_

_**Kevin:**__ *grudgingly* I'll be good._

_**Author:**__ Good boy, you may have a cookie._

* * *

More time had past, it was nearly June. Kevin was long past the exhaustion and the IWF was, surprisingly, on break, so there were no matches scheduled.

He hadn't seen hide or hair of Theresa since that time at the hospital, despite him frequenting places he knew she liked to go.

The park…but it was a huge place and there were at least 3 parts that had a section with swings

The music club…but Verleide didn't play there anymore and no, the owner didn't know where they played now

Her home…he'd walked there once or twice…but he never rang the bell, always walking away at the last minute, though he had noticed that her bedroom curtain's are always closed though the window was sometimes open or shut, depending on the weather

He thought about checking her school but he wasn't certain which one she attended, there's so many in London after all, most of them accessible by using the underground train and, god forbid, there'd probably be fangirls even if he did know what school it was and paid a visit.

So there he was, standing on her doorstep once more wondering how to proceed then preparing to walk away again just as the door opened and James Chappen looked out

"Come in," he said simply, "now" it was calm but obviously an order, not a request and really, who'd disobey that kind of order?

"Are you stalking my grandchild?" the older man asked directly once they were inside and in the kitchen, "this is the third time you've turned up on the doorstep and not knocked or rang and Theresa's been acting strangely. I want to know what's going on."

"How did you know I was on the doorstep?"

"It's easy when you have nosey neighbours who say 'who was that boy in an iron mask on your doorstep?' " James actually chuckled briefly, it lacked any real humour though, "but seriously, what's happened between you two? Have you argued?"

"Not…exactly…"

"How do you 'not exactly' argue?"

"I…" how did he word this? Did he tell Theresa's grandfather that first she'd said she might be in love with him then bolted not long after she'd sang something at his request. How could he even begin to explain the reason he was trying to see her?

The older man gave Kevin a scrutinising look for a few moments before he sighed

"Look, Micky's parents are having a barbecue tonight, it's to celebrate the end of their A-Levels, she's going. I'll give you his address."

"Just like that?" Kevin was surprised; the old man was going to help without wanting something from him?

"…On the promise that you both work out whatever it is that's happened."

"I can't do that…because I don't know what happened," Kevin confessed finally, "She came to see me whilst I was in hospital…exhaustion and…she said…"

James waited, giving him a nod of encouragement for him to continue so Kevin took a breath to steady himself and said: "she…saidshemightbeinlovewithme"

"…OK, let's try that again. Slower this time and in English?"

"She said that…she might be…" damn but this was hard, he was glad he still had his mask on because he could feel himself blushing, "…she might be in love with me."

THAT seemed to stun the older man, his brown eyes actually widened in surprise, "She said that…to you? Actually said that?" before his expression became one of contemplation, "Hm, that explains a lot…"

Did it? It certainly didn't to Kevin. Why would Theresa confessing that she might love him explain anything? Did this whole family speak in riddles or something?

"What, exactly, does it explain?"

"Well, from my point of view, everything. From yours, probably not much," the James said enigmatically though his eyes contained what appeared to be some kind of spark of amusement

"Do you know something I don't?"

"More than likely," now the older man DID laugh slightly, "and no, I'm not going to tell you anything beyond that you really need to go to this barbecue, let me find a pen…"

* * *

'Well, THIS isn't stalkerish at all…' he thought a few hours later.

He was, in fact, standing behind the fence that surrounded the back garden of Micky's home (No. 45 South Ways Street), he could hear the chatter and the sound of a radio playing and smell the charcoals on the grill.

This…was stupid. He should've used the front door rather than try to catch a peek between the spikes of the fence, how the hell was he even supposed to tell if-

"What a day!" a familiar voice murmured before the fence creaked as someone leaned against it, then it yawned and this was followed by a sound of fabric against wood as she apparently slumped to the ground slowly with a soft groan of relief, "hello ground, alright if I sleep on you? Thought so…"

"You know," Kevin said, standing to his full height and leaning over the fence and taking in the sight of Theresa in a violet coloured mini-dress and bare feet, sandals beside her, lying back on her elbows on a shady patch of grass…and noting that Micky's garden was surprisingly large for London, "talking to yourself is supposedly the first sign of madness"

He tried not to laugh as she instantly went scarlet at the sight of him, made a noise that sounded a lot like: "Meep!" and fell down off her elbows…then Kevin reminded himself that this was serious.

Theresa, meanwhile, scrambled to her feet and looked as if she didn't know whether to approach him or run away.

"Go _**away**_, please" she finally said in a low voice, looking around at the chatting or dozing guests, making sure no one was looking and then paused, "How the bloody hell did you know where I was?"

Kevin tried to think of something to say besides the obvious 'your grandfather told me', somehow he knew that if he said that, Theresa would feel horribly betrayed and thus James would lose some of her trust…and he just didn't have it in him to destroy their bond.

"Just coincidence I decided to walk this way and thought I heard a familiar voice. Imagine my surprise when I found you…"

"Mmh hmm, well you can walk the other way and kindly forget you saw me."

"No. We need to talk."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"Yes, there is. What you said at the hospital…Look, this is bloody awkward, is there a gate you can let me in through? Just give me 10 minutes."

"Two."

"Five"

"Fine. It's just a jump to the left," she motioned to where the gate was conveniently located.

"You mean a step to the right," he muttered, stepping towards the gate and waiting as Theresa unbolted and opened it, letting him in, albeit grudgingly. She stood watching him, with her hands on her hips. She put him in mind of a cat puffing itself up, making itself seem threatening to warn off a predator.

'_Is that how you view me?' _he thought,_ ' A predator?'_

"You said you might be in love with me," he said, going straight to the point

"Slip of the tongue," Theresa murmured, looking away as she folded her arms across her front, "heat of the moment…let it go."

"Theresa…" he suddenly noticed something out of place with her hands and unthinkingly grabbed one, holding it up to the light, "what on earth…?"

Both of her hands were covered with a delicate leaf and flower pattern, done in black.

"H-Henna tattoo," she told him, confused now. Confused was good, it was better than anger, "Micky's idea"

"Naturally," he stroked the pattern gently with his thumb, "it suits you" maybe if he could keep her distracted, she'd forget she'd only let him have 5 minutes…

"Y-you're," Theresa cleared her throat and tried again, "You're changing the subject," she said, tugging her hands out of his grip and holding them behind her back.

"That's interesting, a moment ago you were sure there was nothing to talk about on that particular subject"

"There isn't, and I don't want to talk about it," she stated flatly, not looking at him, pretending to be interested in a shrubbery she was standing beside, "You're delusional"

"I think," he said suddenly, reaching out without thinking and grabbing her chin, raising it gently so she was looking at him, "the lady doth protest too much" and then he grinned as she promptly flushed red once more and he heard her breathing speed up a little.

Yes, definitely protesting too much…He could stop that, he knew the perfect thing too and raised his mask slightly before he lowered his head…another kiss…just one…

"Theresa, Michael is asking if-Oh! Oh! I'm…I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to interrupt!" someone stuttered

They both turned abruptly towards the source of the voice and Kevin was only mildly surprised to find himself looking at a lizard-like person who was blushing purple and looked at them owlishly from behind a pair of huge glasses.

"You weren't interrupting anything, Canta," Theresa said, shoving Kevin slightly, not hard, but enough to give him a 'get out of the way' message and stepped towards the lizard-male, "What's Micky lost now?"

If it hadn't been for the slight tremor in her hands as she'd pushed him, he almost would've believed she'd already forgotten…this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd thought.

Then again, no matter how dangerous the conditions, a true muscle leaguer kept a stiff upper lip and accepted the challenge…

* * *

"Oh, um…he wanted to know if you remembered where he left the condiments?" Cantacasa continued, eyeing Kevin nervously

"Yes…Yes I do. In fact, I'll go and get them myself…Canta, have you met Kevin? I'm sure you'll have lots to talk about!" And without another word, but couldn't keep herself from a slight glance backwards, she headed inside as fast as was politely possible, to the kitchen…where she gripped the edge of the worksurface to keep herself from collapsing as her knees seemed to so badly want to.

Why? Dear god WHY did he have to turn up now? She'd been doing…OK

She'd been doing OK at keeping her mind off him, off of everything…Exams were a good reason to focus on other things

Dreams were another thing…she wasn't ready for the dreams…she didn't want to think about them! She'd been half convinced it wasn't anything, she wasn't in love

_What do you get when you fall in love?_

_You only get lies and pain and sorrow_

_But he's here now…he came looking for me…_

_Don't be fooled…I can't…_

"Tezza? Are you OK?" Micky was there as if by magic, putting a hand on her shoulder, "hey, come on, don't cry tonight"

"I'm crying?" she blinked at him then felt her face and was surprised to find wetness, "I am…"

"What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

"Mick…did you invite him?"

"Did I invite who?"

"Kevin! Did you invite Kevin?!"

"How could I? I don't know his mobile number or where he lives. He doesn't even go to our school…wait…he's here?"

"Yes!"

"And that's why you're crying"

"I didn't know I _**was **_crying!"

"Calm down, shhhh," Micky gently pulled her into a hug, "come on, calm down, calm down Tezza, it's OK. Why's it upsetting you? You're in love with him, so what?"

"I don't want to get hurt…"

"No one does. Tezza, you're my best friend so I'm saying this with all the love I have: You can't live your life being afraid. I've said this before, not all blokes are like your father. The fact that Kevin's here now kind of proves it."

"How does it prove it? For all I know I'm a bloody challenge!"

"We're English! We don't operate that way!"

Theresa looked at him…then her mouth curved at one corner before she started to laugh, "I can't believe you just said something like that!" in fact, now that she'd started laughing, she couldn't stop and ended up sliding down to the kitchen floor gripping her middle.

Micky sat down beside her and hugged around her shoulders until the laughter subsided

"You feel better?"

"A little bit" she said, gasping lightly for breath and laying her head on her friend's shoulder, before looking up with only her eyes, "I'm messed up, aren't I?"

"Just a little bit, but I LIKE you messed up. Name me one person who ISN'T messed up"

"…The Dali Lama"

"Are you joking? THINK how messed up he must be after coming back so many times!"

"Don't make me laugh, my sides are hurting"

"Sorry…" she didn't see Micky glance up briefly and make a 'zipped lip' gesture at someone in the kitchen door way before he continued, "so, even though you're determined not to fall in love…what's so special about Kevin anyway?"

"Why're you asking?"

"Just curious why this particular bloke is the one to get through the layers of armour"

Theresa chewed her bottom lip gently before: "…He makes me feel safe…protected. I can talk to him for more than 5 minutes without being bored to death and…he's nice."

"Nice? Sweets, none of the material I've seen on the internet describes him as nice"

"The internet people haven't spent more than 3 seconds with him, they only know what they see in the ring. They don't-"

"Know him as a person like you do" Micky finished

"No…they don't"

"So you know him but you're still scared he'll hurt you. Like, this is only one side of him and as soon as you let him in, he'll break your heart and leave you for dead, so to speak"

"Yes!"

"I see," the white-haired boy nodded in apparent understanding, "You won't know unless you try and…It's fine that you're scared. Bleeding hell, I know Canta was terrified…"

"Canta's always scared. His planet's dying of a plague…"

"…Not the kind of scared I meant," Micky put a hand on the top of her head, "I'm just saying, you won't know until you try."

"You sound like Gramps," Theresa gave a weak chuckle, "But I hear you"

"Good. Now…DO you remember where I left the condiments?" she pointed to a carrier bag that had a ketchup bottle sticking out of it.

"Over there, by the microwave"

"Ready to get off the floor?"

"…just let me stay here a little while, I want to get my head together again"

"That's cool… Micky said, getting up easily, before quickly motioning to the figure in the doorway to get out of sight, "and wash your face while you're at it, huh? Your mascara's running" he added with a wink and grinned widely when Theresa raised a hand but stopped with it halfway to her face,

"Gotcha!"

"Meanie!" she stuck her tongue out before she wiped her eyes with her hand, "go and take the nice people their tomato sauce and English mustard"

"My life is but to serve, dearest Theresa," her friend said with an exaggerated bow before he promptly grabbed the bag with the condiments and headed out to the garden.

* * *

"You hurt her, I'll kill you," Micky told Kevin, quite seriously, as they stood facing each other on the patio, "And I'll make it look like an accident. Clear?"

Given that Micky was just over half a foot shorter than Kevin (6'4" to Kevin's 7'1.5") and quite a bit leaner, it shouldn't have seemed like a huge threat…but there was a conviction in his brown eyes that was quite chilling

"As crystal," Kevin nodded finally

"I mean it," Micky continued, "there's been enough blowing of hot and cold, enough 'do I? Don't I?' Either you want to be with her or you can leave right now"

"You really are protective, aren't you?"

"She's been my best friend since before it was ok to have friends who were girls," Micky said, "I think I have a right to be protective…Now enough stalling, get in the kitchen and cheer her up!"

"Fine," Kevin turned and entered the kitchen to the sound of running water; Theresa was standing at the sink, pouring herself a glass of water, filled it halfway before she turned the tap off and took a sip with a small sigh.

"Can we talk?" he asked

Theresa coughed as the water went down the wrong tube and dropped her glass into the sink

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ Well, this one was a bit of a monster; it just kept growing! I do like Protective!Micky though. I'm also all a-squee because I got to use an actual quote from the UM show (is happy)_

_Cantacasa belongs to my friend xKiaxExPyrosx – you can find pictures of him on her deviant art site, he is a little cutie ^^_

_**Musical References:**__ 'I'm not OK' by My Chemical Romance (for the chapter title), 'Time Warp' (yes, it's in there! Cookie for those who spot it!) from Rocky Horror,' I Don't Wanna Talk About It' by Indigo Girls and' Don't Cry' by Guns n Roses_


	29. Here Forever Always

_**Author's Note:**__ I know, I know. It's been awhile. I'm sorry. MAJOR writer's block and lack of time for any writing_

_**Kevin:**__ you found time to write about that game and that American immortal._

_**Author:**__ That's different. TF2 is a new fandom for me and the story is a collection of drabbles. As for Jack Harkness, that's being co-written. I can't get writer's block with Carolin to help the inspiration flow._

_**Theresa:**__ Chill out, Kevin. Let's get on with the story._

* * *

"T-talk?" Theresa choked out in between gasping for breath, then cleared her throat as her breathing returned to normal, "I said there's nothing to talk about. Why won't you leave me alone?"

"Because there quite clearly is," Kevin replied, taking a step towards her before leaning forward and resting his hands on the work surface on either side of her, effectively trapping her between the sink and himself, "and I'm not letting you run away this time"

"I'm sorry if I hurt your pride"

"My pride isn't what was hurt!"

"Sure, I believe that," uncharacteristically Theresa stuck her tongue out at him rudely before she continued, "You're just upset I'm not begging to get into bed with you!"

"I know you don't mean this attitude! You're just frightened!"

"What do you _**want**_, Kevin?"

This was unexpected…but the words that'd been simmering in his subconscious for months now were out before he could even think about it.

"I want you to say again that you love me." This came out quieter than he'd hoped for, but they were said…and Theresa'd finally stopped trying to break out of his hold (admittedly only to stare at him as if he'd asked her to let him wear Banksy's collar, but at least she'd stopped)

"What?"

"Tell me again that you love me…" he repeated, sounding surprised at himself

"There are plenty of girls who shout that they love you on a daily basis, Kevin"

"But you like me…for me. You've said before…you like ME. Not Kevin Mask the wrestler…you like…"

"…plain Kevin Mask…"

The next thing that happened was that his mask hit the floor with a loud clang as he all but tore it off and quickly pressed his lips against hers, his heart racing like crazy but he didn't make the effort to try and slow it.

"Tell me you love me," he murmured, kissing from her mouth to her right ear and back again, "tell me that you love me, Theresa"

"I…" she swallowed and started again, "I hate you, Kevin," she whispered huskily against his mouth, but continued before his heart could sink to low, "I hate you because you make me realise that I am _mostly human_," she finished by kissing him again and closing her eyes.

That said, and his pride not sure whether to be happy or sad, he tried to break away but her fingers tightened against his skull and Theresa all but hissed, "If you _stop_ kissing me right now, I will yank your hair out, Kevin Mask!"

"…right," was all he got to say before getting lost in another kiss

_Sweet. __**GOD!**__ How the bloody hell did I survive without this for over a month?!_

"…need air…" one of them managed to gasp out eventually, though neither of them could really tell which one of them said it. It didn't really matter anyway as they broke apart, both panting slightly and Theresa silently, with a facial gesture, conceded to loosen her death-grip around Kevin's neck on the premise that Kevin then stopped gripping her hips so hard.

"This is crazy!" Theresa said eventually as she clawed her fingers through her hair a few times, "absolutely, completely and totally crazy!"

"I know"

"I can't do this…"

"What?! But we just-!"

"I can't do this in Micky's kitchen," she interrupted gently, "for one thing I'm afraid his mum'll catch us and she's the biggest gossip this side of London. For another, the blinds overlooking the garden are open and I'm no one's peep show."

"Ah…So…what do we-?"

Theresa sighed hugely, "I think we need to talk, before we go any further…come on, the front room's down this corridor. Everyone's outside so it'll be quiet."

"The living room?"

"It's that or the basement and Micky's dad doesn't like people going down there."

"…do I dare ask why?"

"Mr Dolenz is a mortician. The basement and the two front rooms are where he works and conducts business respectively and I think he's got a client in the works right now but it's pretty quiet down there too so we could always sneak down there and-"

"You know what? The front room will do just fine. Lead the way. Please"

* * *

The living room…well he could say this, it had character…even if that character seemed to be schizophrenic. Photos and knickknacks, one framed tapestry, none of the furniture matched and the stuffed, mounted moose head, staring blankly ahead at nothing was creepy.

Theresa sat down on the green chintz sofa and looked at him expectantly, a moment later he sat down next to her…damn but this sofa was the ugliest thing ever created…comfortable as sin though…He glanced at Theresa, trying to get his thoughts back on track…she looked tense.

"Are you still with that band?"

She blinked…then shook her head, "No. That came to an end."

"I'm sorry"

"Why? It wasn't permanent; my time playing with them came to an end naturally because their regular player came back from his leave of absence and I wasn't needed anymore. It was fun though, I'm better for the experience, lots of good memories…but that's not what we're talking about."

"Right…"

_Awkward…_ his mind supplied unhelpfully, _where do we go now?_

_**You tell me!**_

"Do you wish you'd never met me?"

"No! No…I don't," she looked down at her hands where they were clasped on her lap, "I'm richer for the experience…I'm just wondering…why you'd want to be with me? Why's it important?"

"You like me."

"And?"

"Does there need to be more?"

"Indulge me. I'd like to know if there's more than just that I like you. Lots of people like you, a lot even worship you."

"But they don't know me. You know me, and you like me. I'm…" Kevin paused, how to word this without sounding too vulnerable? Damn!

"I'm not just a wrestler to you, I'm not an icon, and you don't worship me or idolise me. You just…like me. You treat like a normal person. I've never had that."

"Never? Really? You've always been on a pedestal?"

"All my life," he admitted bitterly, "I wasn't a person to anyone; I was always a…project. To my father I was something to be moulded into his exact image, to the DMP, something to be used as vengeance. As for the fans…I'm something to be worshipped or fantasised over. To none of them I had any personality or anything outside of their own ideals…and then there was you"

"Me?"

"You. Who didn't know me, who treated me in a friendly way, well, AFTER you thought I was stalking you and you tried to set Banksy on me. You know I've never had friends"

"I remember…you told me at the park," Theresa went quiet, a small smile flittered across her face, no doubt as she remembered that night but then she sobered again and looked at him, "so that's the only reason you like me? Because I don't worship you?"

"No! It's not the only reason! It's…it's just the main…Damn it, Theresa! WHY are you making this so hard?!"

"Because I don't WANT to be in love, OK? I don't want any of this! Gods, it's so horribly complicated I can't even express it!" she raked her fingers through her hair in apparent frustration, "I…" she took a few deep breaths before continuing, "Yes, I think that I love you and that I would like to be with you…but I'm terrified, OK? I'm scared to death!"

"Because of your parents…"

"Pretty much. I don't trust blokes as a rule."

"You trust Micky and James"

"First point: I've known Micky since we were little. Second point: He's gay. And James is my Gramps, if I can't trust Gramps then really there'd be no point in trusting anyone, would there?"

"This comes down to your father again, doesn't it?"

"Pot-Kettle-Black, Kevin" she flopped against the back of the sofa, her head falling backwards, "this isn't getting us anywhere. We're going around in circles and need to find a way for this déjà vu to end somehow."

More silence stretched out, the only sounds were the muted noises from the garden, the ticking of the clock on the wall…and the stare of that bloody moose head on the wall.

"Go out with me," Kevin said finally

"Come again?"

"_**You**_," he pointed at her with a gloved index finger, "go out with _**me**_," he pointed at himself

"Just like that?"

"Just like that."

"Please…just tell me you're not just playing with me," she told him, "I think my heart might bleed"

"Does it look as if I'm joking?"

Theresa considered this…really, what did she have to lose anymore?

_**Your heart**_

_I think he might have that already…_

_**Your self-respect**_

_How can something that makes me happy make me lose myself respect?_

_**What if you get pregnant? **_

_Not going to happen. Not yet. Besides, there's always the contraceptive implant…right?_

_**OK, fine. If you want to get hurt, you go ahead but I warned you.**_

_I'm tired of fighting this…if I get hurt, then I get hurt. At least I can say I tried it._

"…OK." She said finally.

"OK?" Kevin blinked at her. She'd really given in that easily, after all that

"Just like that?" he echoed her earlier question

"Just like that," she nodded, a slight smile curling one corner of her mouth, "But if I decide I don't like it, I get to leave without a fuss, right?"

"Of course" (he wasn't too pleased with this proviso but if it made her feel better about the whole thing, then he supposed he'd have to live with it. And that in itself was a new experience.)

"Good." She took a deep breath, "Alright then…ask me out again"

"What?"

"Humour me, ask me"

"Alright…Theresa Chappen, will you go out with me?"

"Yes," she nodded, "I'll go out with you, Kevin Mask"

* * *

_**Author's Note:**__ No, the story's not done. I've an epilogue in the writing. THEN I'll be done. And possibly able to work on a sequel._

_**Kevin:**__ Oh no! No more prying into my private life!_

_**Author:**__ Oh go on, you like it really. I gave you a non-Mary-Sue girlfriend to date, didn't I? People likely want to see how nice you are with her._

_**Kevin:**__ I refuse!_

_**Theresa:**__ Oh go on. We've come this far, I'll even make it worth your while (leans up and whispers something)_

_**Kevin:**__…………(looks at her) Really?_

_**Theresa:**__ (nods)_

_**Kevin:**__ with malt vinegar?_

_**Author:**__ Do I even want to know?_

_**Theresa:**__ I said I'd make him proper fish and chips from scratch._

_**Author:**__ Oh, that makes much more sense than what most of the readers were imagining, I'm sure._

_**Musical References:**__ Again, mostly sacrificed in the name of plot, but there's a few obscure ones……I'm ashamed to admit there's a vague 'spice girls' in there. Always be there, I think. (going around in circles tell me will the déjà vu never end), there's also a line from Guns n Roses' 'Sweet Child of mine' and 'My Paper Heart' by All-American Rejects. The title from His Name is Alive 'Here Forever Always Now'_


	30. At Last

**_Author's Note:_**_ I think this might be the last chapter. Consider this an epilogue._

**_Kevin:_**_ and it couldn't have come soon enough. I've had enough of being humiliated_

**_Author:_**_ I honestly can't argue with that, since you actually tend not to humiliate yourself in the show._

**_Theresa:_**_ (thoughtfully) You know; I've always wanted to visit Japan…_

**_Kevin:_**_ Please stop giving her ideas for a sequel_

* * *

It was drizzling and to Kevin's very mildly superstitious mind, it probably wasn't a good sign.

The rain did have one good thing going for it: it kept away the fangirls and the last thing he needed right now was rabid Japanese fangirls, those things were vicious.

He barely noticed a car pull up until he heard a window roll down and a voice suddenly said: "Hey, aren't you Kevin Mask, the famous wrestler? Pinch me, I must be hallucinating"

"You're late" he said, smiling underneath his mask as he stood up from the wall he'd been sitting on, "I'm frozen"

"Sorry," Theresa apologised, getting out of the driver's seat, climbing to the back of her VW van and opening the side door from the inside for him, "Traffic was horrendous. I've never driven through a Japanese city before, you know. And I thought London rush hour was bad."

"I warned you," he said, getting inside the van, gratefully (The van interior was warm after all) and quickly closing the side door before crouching and giving his girlfriend a peck on the cheek.

"Correction," Theresa mock-pouted, "You said 'it can get a little bit busy in Tokyo' not 'if you expect to make a 3pm appointment, leave at 9.30am."

"You have not been in traffic that long" Kevin didn't bother getting into the passenger side of the front, instead making himself comfortable on the one-non-chojin-sized-person bed in the back and taking a moment to fully appreciate his girlfriend's outfit (it still, even after a year, felt strange to think of her that way. But it was a good sort of strange) He did rather like how the flared jeans and peasant blouse she was wearing looked on her, it seemed one thing that Kid Muscle's merry band of 3 female supporters hadn't been able grasp yet was that a girl could actually be sexier when covered from head to foot (at least in Kevin's opinion)

"It feels like it," Theresa laughed, "and now to try and navigate this" so saying she climbed back into the driver's seat and clicked her seatbelt into place, "where am I headed to?"

"There's a Travel-Inn about three streets away"

"Good thing I brought my SatNav rather than rely on your directions," she joked, moving back out into the traffic, "I'd keep on getting lost"

"My sense of direction is excellent, thank you very much"

"Uh huh…"

Nothing else was said as she drove and Kevin managed a half-doze on the camp bed; it was nice to be away from the stadium crowds, not to mention the bloody McMadd family and Kid Muscle and his band of idiots…though lately Theresa seemed to be on friendly terms with Wally, DikDik and Checkmate (possibly due to the fact they were the three of the group with actual manners most of the time)

He shut his eyes and let the music playing on the van radio wash over him…Ode to Joy if his music history was correct.

It seemed like too soon that they arrived at the hotel he was staying at, he really didn't want to get out of the van and face the 'real' world just yet, not when the world that consisted of the interior of the van and his girlfriend would do just fine right now.

He heard rather than saw Theresa move from the driver's seat to the back before a shadow fell across him

"Shift up, come on"

"Don't want to…" he grumbled childishly and put the pillow over his face, "I'm comfortable here"

"If you don't move, you can't lie with your head in my lap"

Well, he honestly couldn't argue with that so he grudgingly he moved down the camp bed slightly, far enough for Theresa to sit down, before removing his mask, setting it carefully on the floor (the unspoken rule was that when he was with her he could drop the wrestling persona and just be himself…that and when they tried this with his mask on, Theresa ended up bruised) and moving back to lie with his head on her lap.

Then she started combing her fingers through his hair, he relaxed at the touch and the mild headache he'd had since the match vanished almost instantly.

"So, how was your match?"

"Boring. Easy. The usual," he mumbled sleepily, "Idiot Muscle was there with his group…I shudder to think about what happened in the stands. Don't want to talk about it anymore. Tell me about your trip"

Theresa had, after finishing secondary school, decided to take a year out before doing her teaching degree, so she'd spent the last six months travelling in this very van with a group of her friends, the first six months had been spent planning routes, packing her bag, picking up things that would last on the trip, getting her passport sorted out and making sure there was enough money in her bank account just in case. Somewhere in between all of this they'd managed to fit in quite a few night outs alone together and so far it seemed she wanted to keep seeing him.

"Oh it was great! ' she enthused, even as her fingers kept up their easygoing combing of his hair, something he'd come to enjoy but didn't tell her that, she probably already knew anyway, "Travelled across Europe with my friends. There was this one night where we blew a thousand Deutsche Marks between us and got drunk in a pub full of Australians. Oh and then we helped this group in Sweden to plant trees, inch by inch, I had so much fun!"

"You're joking"

"Am not. I have photos somewhere, probably in my giant backpack back there, might be under the bed. Micky sewed a bunch of flags on it for me"

"How is Micky?"

"Really looking forward to starting his Chemistry course, he's even got himself into some student digs."

"Good to hear"

They sat in companionable silence, it was nice and relaxed and making Kevin even less inclined to leave this cocoon of steel, carbon fiber and too small but soft camp bed.

"How long before you can come home and stop being Kevin Mask the Wrestler for a bit?"

"Three weeks…you're sure you don't want to stay with me?"

"And get things thrown at me by your adoring public for being your girlfriend? Not to mention having the Japanese newspapers in my face wanting to know what spells or tricks I used to get you? No thank you. Maybe next tournament."

"Fine," he drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "Can we stay like this a bit longer?"

"As long as you want,"

For awhile there was nothing but her fingers in his hair, warmth of the van interior and the radio playing in the background, some song about love and heaven.

_All through my wandering years_

_I always said I was biding my time_

_But alone in the dark I'd face my fears_

_That no other heart would come to mine _

_At first when you found me_

_It took me a while 'til I realized_

_Why I felt weak when you were around me_

_Why I couldn't speak when I looked in your eyes_

"Who is this?"

"Don't know. It's a mix CD Rea's girlfriend Maxine put together for me, said it was a thank you for bringing her on the trip, she's a DJ for Heart FM you know"

"It's not bad," he mumbled sleepily, half wishing he could just sleep here.

"I wish I'd got that on tape"

"Devil woman" he tossed at her without any malice, twisting his head to look at her

"You know you love me really,"

………

"Yes," he said finally, "Yes, I do"

"Good," Theresa smiled at him, "because I love you too,"

That said, they settled down into comfortable silence again and the CD changed tracks, almost as if some omnipotent presence had decided now was the right time for this very track…

_There may be trouble ahead_

_But while there's moonlight and music _

_And love and romance _

_Lets face the music and dance_

_**FIN**_

* * *

**_Author's Note:_**_ I think I can honestly say that's it for this story_

**_Kevin:_**_ Finally!_

**_Author:_**_ Now onto the sequel!_

**_Kevin:_**_ Oh no! You are NOT writing anymore about my private life!_

**_Author:_**_ Why? Don't want Theresa to meet your workmates properly?_

**_Kevin:_**_ I don't even want them on the same continent as her_

**_Theresa:_**_ (innocently) So meeting your father is out of the question then?_

**_Kevin:_**_ ?!!_

**_Author:_**_ I did kind of have that planned for the next one…_

**_Kevin:_**_ Absolutely not! Never! Not in a million years and not even after! Are we clear?_

**_Author:_**_ Crystal (innocent)_

_**Musical References:** Title from 'At Last' by Etta James, mangled lyrics from 'Never is Enough' by Barenaked Ladies, 'Ode to Joy' by Beethoven, 'Feels like Heaven' by Peter Cetera and, 'Face the Music and Dance' by Frank Sinatra_


End file.
